Locus of Control
by simkhalou
Summary: Danny screws up and has to learn the hard way that he isn't the only one who would risk everything to keep Grace safe.  now complete
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Locus of Control

**Summary:** Danny screws up and has to learn the hard way that he isn't the only one who would risk everything to keep Grace safe. This time, he has no one but himself to blame for the fallout.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or its characters.

**A/N:** This is a friendship/family-themed story about the Five-0 ohana. It's a bit fluffy at times, but with a good amount of drama, angst, and hurt/comfort on the side. There's also some humor and a tiny bit of romance… so I'm basically doing ALL the genres in this one.

Anyway, I started writing this during the hiatus between seasons one and two (yes, I've been working on this for almost a year now…), and since I didn't want to speculate on what was going to happen in season two, this story is set in late season one (after episode 21, but before 23).

The story is essentially finished and just needs a little tweaking here and there, so I hope I'll be to update on a somewhat regular basis.

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><p><strong>Locus of Control<strong>

**Chapter 1**

Special Agent Edith Lake came awake with a start as the door of her tiny, windowless office on the third floor of the FBI field office in Honolulu slammed forcefully into a rattly metal shelf behind it. Her partner, Conrad Bixler, stormed into the dark room, waving a manila folder at her and ginning like someone had stapled the corners of his mouth to his ears.

"Hey Edie, you're gonna love this," he drawled.

Edith squinted up at her partner, her vision still blurry, before she ran a hand over her mouth to check for leftover drool from the nap she had just taken on the keyboard of her computer. She blinked a couple of times, waiting for Bixler to say something, but he just stood there, tapping his fingers on the folder in his hands, wiggling his eyebrows.

"What?" Edith finally asked mid-yawn.

"Guess." Her partner's grin – even though physically impossible – grew wider and wider.

Edith ran a hand over her cheek, tracing the little square-shaped impressions the keyboard had left there. Her brain was not awake enough for this shit. "Just . . . tell me. Please."

Bixler rolled his eyes, disappointed. He threw the folder onto her already abused computer keyboard, shrugged and then dropped heavily into the chair in front of his own desk. He pouted like a gigantic six-foot-three, two hundred and fifty pound, five-year-old.

Edith grabbed the folder and opened it. A familiar face stared back at her from a black and white photograph that was clipped to a few pages of notes, printed in the smallest font possible. She squinted at the text while her left hand started patting across her desk, searching for her reading glasses. "What is this?"

"Our ticket out of this broom closet."

"Don't tell me we got a lead on him?"

"Are you illiterate or something?" Bixler asked, frowning.

"Just tell me what it says in here. It's dark and I can't find my glasses and . . . please?" Naps always made Edith a little whiny. She gave her partner her best puppy eyes look, even though it probably wasn't necessary to make him talk. He was practically bouncing up and down in his chair, ready to burst with excitement. Just like a child.

"He is back," Bixler announced exuberantly.

"Back?"

"Back."

"Huh?"

"He's back in the States, Edie. Back in Hawai'i."

"No way."

"Way."

Edith was wide awake now. She hastily rummaged around her desk, knocking over a couple empty paper cups in the process, until she finally found a pair of glasses underneath an overturned copy of 'Outlook for Dummies'. She put them on and quickly scanned the pages of the folder in front of her.

"Is this legit?" she asked after a minute.

"You bet it is."

"Then why are you still sitting here, grinning like an idiot?" She stood up and holstered her sidearm. "Let's go get a warrant for a wiretap on Danny Williams and get this son of a bitch." Edith tossed the folder back at Bixler and stormed out of the office.

* * *

><p>"But I wanna go with you."<p>

Gracie looked at him with huge sad brown eyes and Danny almost gave in at that moment. He sighed and knelt down in front of his little girl, who was sitting on the edge of his bed, legs dangling belligerently against the frame. His bad knee protested the movement but Danny ignored the dull throbbing pain. He patted Grace's head and tugged on one of her pigtails, before he rested both hands firmly on her shoulders, looking at her with his serious face.

"We've talked about this, Monkey. Danno's gotta go back to Jersey to see grandma for a few days."

When Grace just pouted, Danny decided it would be better for his knee to sit down, seeing that this might take a little longer than he had hoped. He dropped down to sit cross-legged in front of the bed.

"Why can't _I _go see grandma?"

"Not this time, babe. You got school on Monday, remember?"

She kicked her leg against the bed a little harder than before. "But you have to work on Monday, too."

"The Governor was nice enough to give me a couple of days off."

"Maybe you could call the school and ask if it's okay if I don't go for a few days." A small, hopeful smile appeared on her face.

This was not fair. At all.

"Look, Monkey, we'll go see grandma in the summer, I promise, okay?"

"Why can't I go now?"

Danny ran a hand over his mouth. He was slowly growing frustrated. "Look, when I booked my flight, I was really lucky to still get a seat on that plane. I asked if there was room for one more, but they said no. Don't tell me you wanna ride with the luggage. Huh?"

She shook her head no. After a moment, her legs finally stopped banging against the bed frame, and Danny decided to take that as a good sign. He patted her knee softly and tried to make eye contact.

"You're gonna have so much fun staying with Uncle Steve tonight," he said, smiling encouragingly at her. "And mommy will come by and pick you up tomorrow, as soon as she gets back here from Manchester."

"But we were gonna go to the water park this weekend."

Danny would never admit it in front of his daughter, but he was actually happy to get out of that one. Grace had been on him about a trip to the water park for months now. Two weeks ago, he had finally caved and agreed to take her on their next weekend together. However, that was before he had checked the park's website. After doing some shocking investigative work and finding out what water parks looked like these days, he had offered Kono a hundred bucks to come with them and entertain Grace, because he was definitely not suicidal enough to go anywhere near all those slides and water world playgrounds.

"I'm so sorry about that, Monkey," he lied. "Maybe you can ask mommy if she'll let us go next weekend. We could bring Auntie Kono, too. What do ya think?" One more week to bully the rookie into coming with them was all the time he would need. "Sounds fun, right?"

"Hmmmm . . ." Grace took a moment to consider his offer and then nodded. "Okay."

"Okay?" he asked, smiling at her again.

She was still pouting a little, but Danny could see a small smile tugging on her lips now, too. "Yeah."

He patted her knee again and stood up. "You ready to go?"

She nodded and slid off the bed, dragging her enormous pink backpack along with her.

"Come here, gimme that," Danny said, reaching for her bag. He flung the backpack over his shoulder and guided Grace with a hand on the back of her head towards the door of his tiny apartment.

Once Gracie was properly seat-belted into the passenger seat of the Camaro, Danny walked around to the driver's side of the car, leaned against the closed door, and pulled his cell from his pants pocket. Steve picked up on the second ring.

"Okay, this is officially your last chance to get out of this," Danny said, staring up into the bright blue Hawaiian sky.

"_Don't be ridiculous, Danny. Just get over here."_

"You sure you don't mind?"

"_Yes, I'm sure."_ Danny could practically hear his partner rolling his eyes at him.

"Listen, I really appreciate this. I know it was all very last minute and –"

"_Stop worrying about it, Danny. The guest bedroom is all made up and ready . . . it'll be fine. Besides, you got more important things to worry about right now."_

Danny sighed heavily. "Yeah, I know. Listen, I don't know when I'll be back, so –"

"_Hey, family comes first, right?"_

"Yeah," Danny agreed softly. He had been telling himself that for the past six hours, but somehow, it didn't make him feel the least bit better about what he was doing.

And what he was doing, was lying to his partner. Betraying his friend.

"_Okay. See you in a bit,"_ Steve said and hung up.

Danny kept the phone pressed to his ear a little longer. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he couldn't drag anyone any further into this. Especially not his partner. Not after everything Steve had already done for him.

With a sigh, Danny stuffed his phone back into his pocket. He took a deep breath and forced a smile when he opened the car's door and looked at Gracie, who was patiently waiting for him. "You ready to go?"

* * *

><p>Steve stood in the front door and watched patiently as Danny and Grace made their way across the front law towards him. The little girl's tiny hand was firmly gripping her father's bigger one. She was chewing her bottom lip and had an overall grouchy expression on her face – it didn't look like she was going to let Danny's hand go anytime soon.<p>

The smile on Steve's face disappeared. Gracie loved him, and he had expected her to be super excited about spending the night at his place. But now the little girl looked like her father was walking her to school on a Sunday. Steve swallowed and began to knead his right hand in his left, trying to work out the panic that was rapidly building up inside him. He could deal with a happy, giggly Gracie. Not with a sad, pouty Gracie, who wanted her Danno and no one else.

Danny had called him around seven that morning, telling him that his mother was in the hospital with a bad case of pneumonia and that he needed to go back to Jersey for a few days to make sure she was going to be okay. Steve had told him to go and not worry about work – he, Chin, and Kono would manage just fine without him for a few days. When Danny had told him that he had Grace that weekend, and that he was still looking for someone to watch her until the next day – when Rachel would be back from her trip to Manchester – Steve had offered to watch her without even thinking about it. He had been sure that Grace would love the idea. But now that she looked as if someone had told her that Christmas got canceled this year, he wasn't so sure anymore.

"Hey, Grace," Steve said, forcing the smile back on his lips, as the two came walking up to him.

"Hey, Uncle Steve." Her voice sounded oddly resigned. Steve looked nervously up at Danny and then back down at the little girl. He crouched down next to her and held his arms open expectantly. "What, no hug?"

With a little push from Danny, she leaned forward and wrapped her tiny arms around his neck.

"Hey, Danny told me you guys were gonna go to the water park this weekend," Steve said.

Grace nodded silently.

"I know it's not half as much fun, but do you wanna go swimming out back?" Steve asked, jerking a thumb in the direction of the small bay behind the house.

Grace just shrugged.

"I could teach you how to snorkel."

She raised her eyebrows at that.

"Sound good?" he asked, feeling a little less nervous at the somewhat positive reaction from Grace.

She nodded and then looked up at her dad. "Can I?"

"Sure, Monkey," Danny said with a loving smile. He looked just as relieved as Steve felt. "Who could better teach you how to snorkel properly than Super-SEAL McGarrett here?"

Finally, Grace smiled.

"Hey, why don't you run inside and get changed?" Steve suggested, getting back up.

She nodded. Danny carefully put the big backpack on her tiny shoulders. It almost looked like he was afraid she would fall over backwards the minute he let go of it. Grace, however, somehow managed to stay upright. Danny took a moment to look at his daughter and then ran a hand gently over her head. "You keep an eye on him, okay? Make sure he doesn't get into any trouble," he said, winking at her. When Grace nodded, Danny crouched down beside her, gave her a huge hug and a kiss and tightly grabbed her shoulders with both hands. "I'm gonna call you as soon as I can, okay?"

Grace nodded again. "Okay." She gave her dad a kiss. "Love you, Danno."

"I love you too, Monkey," Danny said as he stood back up. "Now go."

When Grace walked past Steve inside the house, he patted her on the head. "I'll be right in."

Danny waited until Grace was out of earshot before he spoke. "I'm sorry," he started, shaking his head slightly. "When I told her, she wanted to come with me but I can't take her, my mom –"

"Danny," Steve said, holding up both hands in front of him. "It's fine. We'll be fine," he tried to reassure his partner, who looked less than happy about leaving his precious little daughter alone with him for the night.

"Yeah," Danny said with a sigh, giving Steve a somewhat grateful look. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it", Steve said, slapping his shoulder. "Hey, how is your mother doing? Have you heard anything new?"

Danny looked at him confused for a moment. Then realization seemed to hit him. He shook his head. "No, nothing yet. Still the same."

"She'll be okay."

"Hmhm." Danny looked like his mind was miles away.

Steve frowned when he noticed how his partner's hands were nervously fidgeting with his tie. He had sounded so much calmer on the phone. Worried, yes, but right now he was just a mess.

Danny suddenly cleared his throat a little awkwardly. He seemed to have noticed that Steve was studying his body language. He started smoothing out his tie and glanced at his watch. "My flight leaves in about an hour so I better get going."

"Okay."

"Rachel will come by and pick Grace up around noon tomorrow."

Steve nodded. "Don't worry about Grace, Danny," he tried to reassure his partner again. "See you in a few days." He slapped his back and watched as Danny slowly made his way back to the Camaro.

He didn't look back again, just got into the car and drove off.

* * *

><p>"Play that back again."<p>

Edith pressed the headphones firmly to her ears, hoping to be able to better understand what was being said. She and Bixler were sitting in front of a wall of computer equipment in a room that was even tinier than their office. Edith had no clue how, but her partner had somehow managed to clean up the recording of a phone call Detective Danny Williams had made about half an hour ago. The warrant had come through only minutes earlier, and she couldn't believe that they already seemed to have something tangible on the man they were looking for.

Bixler pressed a few buttons and the recording played again.

"_Okay, this is officially your last chance to get out of this."_

"_Don't be ridiculous, Danny. Just get over here."_

"_You sure you don't mind?"_

"_Yes, I'm sure."_

"_Listen, I really appreciate this. I know it was all very last minute and –"_

"_Stop worrying about it, Danny. The guest bedroom is all made up and ready . . . it'll be fine. Besides, you got more important things to worry about right now."_

"_Yeah, I know. Listen, I don't know when I'll be back, so –"_

"_Hey, family comes first, right?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_Okay. See you in a bit."_

Edith blew out a long breath, as she set the headphones down in her lap. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "What do you think?"

Bixler shrugged. "It's not much."

"You think it's enough for Judge Foster to sign off on another warrant?"

Her partner snorted and shook his head. "Not a chance, Edie. He didn't even want to sign off on the wiretap. There's no way he'll let us search McGarrett's house on this alone," he said, gesturing towards the equipment in front of them.

Edith rolled her eyes, knowing he was right. It had taken them half an hour to convince the judge that a wiretap on Danny Williams would be their best shot in finding the man's brother.

They had been tracking Matt Williams through half of Asia for months now. Cambodia, Bangladesh, Bhutan, Qatar and so forth. But he had yet to make the mistake of either entering a country that had an extradition treaty with the United States in the first place, or one that was actually willing to act upon such an agreement. Why Matt Williams would just come back to the States after all this time was a mystery to Edith, but the intel they had gotten from a source at Langley seemed legitimate enough – even though she didn't really trust anyone in the CIA. It was a matter of principle.

However, Judge Foster had not wanted to hear any of it at first, afraid that authorizing a wiretap on one of the officers on the Governor's task force could ruin his career. He had finally caved, though, when Edith had mentioned her father, who was a well-known judge at the Federal Tax Court. Foster didn't need to know that she hadn't spoken to the man in years.

"But come on," Edith said, pulling herself upright. "I mean, why would Williams need to put someone up at McGarrett's house? He doesn't have any family here, except maybe for his daughter and the ex-wife."

"You usually don't need to find a place to stay for people who already live near you," Bixler pointed out, speaking slowly, as if she would have a hard time following his logic.

"I know that, thank you," Edith snapped sarcastically. "But that's exactly what I'm saying. I mean . . . woah, what a coincidence." Her hands were flailing the air in huge circles. "Matt Williams boards a plane to Hawaii and the next day a desperate sounding Danny Williams is asking is partner in crime McGarrett to let someone stay at his place. Come on!" She was almost shouting now. "_Family comes first._ You heard McGarrett. If this was not about Matt Williams then . . . I don't know. I'll quit or something."

"Okay," Bixler said, holding up both hands defensively in front of him. "But, I still don't think we should push our luck with Foster."

"Okay. So what are we gonna do?"

Bixler grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Stakeout time."

* * *

><p>The sun had already begun setting when Steve and Grace finally made their way back up to the house. They had been in the water for a good two hours, and Steve was starting to seriously doubt that the little polliwog was actually his partner's daughter at all. If he had ever seen a hydrophobic, it was Danny Williams. Grace, however, was the complete opposite. She had gotten the hang of things pretty quickly, and soon enough the two of them were more underwater than over it, trying to find little fishes that had accidentally made their way into the more shallow waters.<p>

"You hungry yet?" Steve had eventually asked and Grace had nodded emphatically.

She quickly ran back up to the house and disappeared inside. Steve picked up the diving mask and snorkel she had left on one of the deck chairs by the shore, and followed her inside the house. He couldn't help but smile when he spotted the little puddles of water on the floor – shrinking in size along the way – leading upstairs and towards the guest bedroom.

"Hey Grace," he called as he made his way towards his own bedroom. "I'll grab a quick shower, okay?"

"Okay!" Steve heard her yell from the room across the hallway.

"You feel like ordering pizza?"

"Yesssss!"

"Okay, well there are a couple of menus downstairs in the kitchen next to the fridge. Why don't you go ahead and pick out your favorite when you're all done, okay?"

"Okay."

When Steve came back downstairs ten minutes later, he found Grace sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor. She was already wearing her pajamas, but her hair was still dripping wet, forming another small puddle all around her. Two pizza menus lay spread out in front of her, while she held a third one in her hands, reading it with such concentration that she didn't even notice him walking in.

Steve grabbed the towel Grace had left on one of the kitchen chairs and tossed it at her, making the little girl jump and look at him with huge, confused eyes.

"You need to dry your hair a little. Danno's gonna kill me if you catch a cold," he said, trying sound all serious, but failing miserably.

Grace picked up the towel that had bounced off her head and made a face. "I already tried," she said, but nevertheless wrapped the towel around a few strands of hair and started squeezing.

Steve snorted and shook his head. "Come here," he said, waving her over as he sat down on the chair. He took the towel from her and started to gently rub it across her head, trying not to pull any hairs out. "There, all done." He looked at the mess on the kitchen floor and then back up to Grace. "Now, did you find anything you like?"

She smiled and went to grab one of the menus off the floor and handed it to him. "Can we get one with pineapple and ham?" she asked, still smiling, pointing at a picture of the pizza she had picked out. "Danno doesn't like it so we always get something else, and mommy and Stan never order pizza."

"Well, that's not fair," Steve said with a mock pout. "Of course we can get pineapple and ham." Again, he wondered if the little girl was even related to Danny.

Grace smiled satisfied at him and then disappeared into the living room while Steve called to order the pizza. She came back, dragging her gigantic backpack behind her, announcing that she would do some homework while they were waiting for the delivery guy. Steve left her alone in the kitchen to start mopping up the little puddles she had left all over the house.

Operation 'clean up' was progressing nicely and barely five minutes later, Steve was already halfway up the stairs. When he suddenly heard the French doors leading to the lanai close with a soft click, he frowned.

Steve craned his neck to see what was going on in the living room, expecting to find Grace wandering about. Instead of the little girl, however, he found two men in the room downstairs, both clad in black, complete with leather gloves and ski masks. One of them seemed moved towards the front door, while the other one made his way slowly towards the kitchen. Towards Grace.

Without wasting a second on thinking things through, Steve practically flew down the stairs and threw himself on the second guy before he could reach the kitchen door. He tackled the man hard, slamming him into a wall and destroying a little side table in the process. The guy slid down to the floor, dazed and confused, and Steve took a few quick steps back to peek inside the kitchen, looking for Grace.

And there she was, sitting at the table in the center of the kitchen, a legal pad and a textbook in front of her. Pale pink headphones were covering her ears while her head bounced from side to side in a quick rhythm. She was completely oblivious to the world around her.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw the other guy launching himself at him. A gloved fist came flying in the direction of his head, and he managed to duck away just in time. As the knuckles hit nothing but air, the guy attached to the hand started stumbling forward. Steve grabbed his still outstretched arm and used the guy's momentum to push his face into the side of a nearby shelf. That guy also went down.

"Don't move!"

Steve spun around, ready to fight, and found a third man standing across the room, pointing a gun at him. The angle, in which he was holding the gun confirmed Steve's initial assessment that these guys were complete amateurs. He held what looked like a fifty caliber handgun – big bullets but limited accuracy – sideways, like you saw people hold guns in movies. It was unlikely that the guy would be able to hit his aim (which currently seemed to be the center of Steve's forehead) from that angle. Aside from that, the force of the recoil would definitely blow his wrist to hell, effectively preventing him from getting another shot off.

Still, Steve couldn't take the risk of the guy firing the weapon just once. He was afraid that the stray bullet might hit Grace in the kitchen behind him.

So he put up both hands and started to move slowly away from the kitchen door. "What do you want?" Steve asked, sneaking another glance at Grace who still had no clue about what was going on in the next room.

"Where's Williams?" the guy with the gun asked, sounding like he was on the verge of a panic attack. So definitely not a pro.

Steve just blinked at him, perplexed. Who is the trouble magnet now, Danny, huh? Seems like Rachel had this one right all along. Danny was the one being followed by violence. It just accidentally (usually) seemed to find its way to the people around him. Preferably Steve.

"You deaf or somethin'? Where the fuck is Williams."

"I don't know who you're talking about," Steve lied, shrugging and taking another small step away from the kitchen door and hoped it would seem like an all natural and self-evident movement.

"Don't you fuckin' lie to me," the guy yelled, waving the gun around in front of him. "And don't you fuckin' move or I'll blow ya brains out right now."

How old was this punk, seventeen?

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw the guy he had tackled into the wall get back up, wincing in pain. The other one was still out for the count, snoring away on his living room floor and staining the carpet with blood oozing from his nose.

"Ey, I'm not gonna ask again. Where the fuck is Williams?" The kid with the gun was yelling now, causing Steve to chance another glance in Gracie's direction to make sure she still hadn't heard anything. As soon as she would come running to the living room to see what was going on, things could take a turn for the worse really, really fast. But to Steve's relief, she was still completely engrossed in her homework, making him wonder just how high she had turned up the volume on her iPod.

"I already told you, I don't know who you're talking about."

"And I already told you to not fucking lie to me!"

"What do you want from him anyway?"

"None of your fuckin' business."

"_You get the beeeeest of both worlds! Chill it out take it slow, then you rock out the show! You get the beeeeest of both worlds!"_

Three pairs of eyes and one gun whirled in the direction of the kitchen, as Gracie suddenly started singing along to whatever song she was listening to. There was a moment of general confusion and Steve realized that, if he was gonna make a move on the kid with the gun, it needed to be right now.

-to be continued-


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** First off, a big Thank You for the reviews and alerts! It really means a lot to know you're enjoying the story so far!

Here is the second chapter. I'm not sure I'll be able to update again as quickly, but I'll definitely try. Thank you for reading!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

"I hate stakeouts."

Edith shrank a little lower in passenger seat of the inconspicuous looking black sedan and propped her feet up on the dashboard. Bixler had parked the car a couple doors down from McGarrett's house, giving them a clear view of anyone who came and left through the front door, but in the thirty minutes they had been here now, nothing had happened.

"How can you hate stakeouts?"

Edith could tell that her partner was having the best time, with his binoculars in one hand and a donut from the large box on his lap in the other.

"Come one, you only like them because a, you're pervert who likes to spy on people and b, because it gives you an excuse to stuff yourself with all kinds of unhealthy foods."

"Harsh," he commented around a mouthful of donut.

"It's the truth, though."

_Bang!_

Both, Edith and Bixler, came up in their seats with a start.

"Was that a gunshot?" Edith asked, grabbing the binoculars from her partner. She started staring at the front of McGarrett's house but couldn't see much of anything of what was going on inside, her view partly blocked by a tall green hedge.

"Sure as hell sounded like a shot to me."

"What do we do?"

"We go!" Bixler decided excitedly. "This is better than a warrant."

"You know, as far as civil rights are concerned, it's not technically better than a warrant," Edith called after her partner who was already out of the car.

With a sigh, she followed him, unholstering her Glock. They quickly made their way across the street and instinctively crouched down a little when another shot rang out, but didn't stop moving closer to the front door of McGarrett's house.

When they reached the porch, Edith positioned herself on the right side of the door while Bixler pressed himself against the wall on the left. He gave her a curt nod and thumbed off the safety of his gun. Edith did the same and watched as her partner moved in front of the door, ready to kick it down.

It flew straight off it's hinges. Providing cover, Edith followed Bixler inside the house. The living room was a mess. Overturned furniture, crashed glass scattering the floor, blood. In the midst of it all, two men, all clad in black, just lay there. Both either knocked out, or dead.

There was some kind of commotion coming from the kitchen. Gun first, Edith followed the noise and saw another man dressed in black slam an entire coffeemaker at another man's head. The guy scrambled backwards and crashed into a counter behind him. However, he quickly got his bearings and tackled the other one into the fridge. Both men tumbled to the ground and began to struggle for the upper hand.

"FBI, nobody move!" Bixler yelled out from behind Edith.

Both men froze, looking up in utter surprise. Before either of them could react, Bixler was next to them, tearing the black dressed one away from the other, and shoving him on the ground a few feet away.

Edith trained her gun on him. "On the ground! Stay down!" she yelled out as the guy got ready to make a break for it.

It didn't seem like he really realized what was going on, but eventually obeyed and just dropped down to lie face down on the floor. He even obediently laced his fingers behind his head.

The other man – this one had to be McGarrett – propped himself up to a sitting position and leaned back against a counter. With his egs sprawled out in front of him, hands searching out the source of the blood running down the left side of his face, he just started at everyone.

Bixler crouched down next to the other man and put a pair of cuffs on his wrists, while Edith kept her gun on him. "Stay," Bixler ordered and got back up. "Toss me your cuffs, Edie."

She did and watched as her partner checked the other two attackers for a pulse. Her eyes wandered back to where McGarrett sat on the floor. She frowned when she saw that he had opened the door of the counter next to him and was now leaning inside the cabinet.

"Hey, you okay in there?" she asked tentatively.

Bixler came back into the kitchen. "One of 'em is dead, took a bullet to the head," he announced. "The other is out cold. Cuffed him anyway." When Edith didn't react, he followed her gaze to the man on the floor. "What's wrong with him?"

She shrugged and opened her mouth to say something, but had to realize that she had no clue why McGarrett had crawled half way inside the cabinet below the sink. She shrugged again.

"Is he talking in there?"

Edith shook her head. "I don't even know, man, he took a pretty nasty hit to the head," she said and gestured towards the broken coffeemaker on the floor.

"Ouch," Bixler commented, scrunching up his face. "Well, I guess I'm gonna go call for back-up and maybe an ambulance or two. Why don't you try to get his head out of that cabinet before he inhales too much laundry detergent or bleach or whatever he's got in there."

Edith rolled her eyes at her partner as he left the kitchen. For a few moments, she just stood there, trying to hear what McGarrett was saying. However, his voice was far too low and hushed to make out any words. She sighed and put her hands on her hips, feeling a bit lost. After a little while, she tried clearing her throat to get his attention, but he didn't seem to hear her.

"Hey, you, with the face in the cupboard . . . Commander McGarrett?"she tried carefully.

At that, he peeked around the cabinet's door and shot her a slightly irritated look.

"Hey, uhm, I'm Special Agent Edith Lake, I'm with the FBI, see?" She forced a smile and held up her badge in front of herself to show him that she was not a threat. "You . . . doin' alright in there?"

"Just . . . give me a second here," he said, sounding surprisingly sane, but then stuck his head back inside the cabinet.

Edith threw up her hands in a 'what the hell?' gesture and rolled her eyes again. They didn't teach you how to handle stuff like this at Quantico.

* * *

><p>When Conrad Bixler returned to McGarrett's kitchen a few minutes later, he couldn't help but feel relieved to find the guy somewhat upright – and with his head out of that cabinet. His face was a mess, though, and he was leaning heavily against the sink for support. From where Bixler stood in the doorway to the kitchen, he couldn't figure out if it was because of how badly McGarrett had gotten banged up in the fight, or because of the little girl that seemed to have attached itself on his front. Probably a little bit of both.<p>

The girl's tiny, tightly clenched hands were grabbing fistfuls of McGarrett's blood spattered shirt. Her face was deeply buried into his chest and her entire body seemed to be shaking with sobs that sounded a lot like a dying cat. McGarrett was rocking her gently up and down and side to side, stroking her hair with one hand and rubbing soothing circles on her back with the other. His head was close to hers and he kept on mumbling something unintelligible into her ears.

Bixler's eyes wandered over to Edie, who had dropped down on one of the chairs around the table in the center of the kitchen. She had her elbows propped up on her knees and was nervously chewing her fingernails while watching McGarrett and the little girl intently.

Bixler cleared his throat to attract her attention. "Where'd he find that child?" he asked, gesturing vaguely in McGarrett's direction when Edie looked up.

"She was hiding in that cabinet."

Now that explained a lot.

"Listen," Bixler said, trying to keep his voice low. "I did a quick sweep of the house, doesn't look like Williams has been here at all. My guess is that she" – he waved a hand towards the little girl again – "is the house guest Williams and McGarrett were discussing over the phone."

"Great," Edie groaned, throwing her head back. "Kipton is gonna love that."

Her comment got McGarrett's attention. His head snapped up and he looked from one agent to the other. "Would someone mind telling me what the fu—" He stopped himself mid-curse and glanced down at the child in his arms. "What is going on here?"

Bixler exchanged a look with Edie, neither of them willing to jump on that particular grenade.

"It's complicated," Edie finally said, her tone dismissive. "Look, you seem to be bleeding quite a bit there, so why don't you come over here and maybe sit down for a minute and wait until EMS get here." She got up and hesitantly shoved her chair towards McGarrett and his leech.

"I'm good," he deadpanned and then jerked his chin towards the intruder still laying face down on the floor with his hands cuffed behind his neck. "Who are these guys?"

Edie bit down on her bottom lip and turned to Bixler for support. He just shrugged and shook his head. No way, missy. This was not how their partnership worked. The talking was her part of the job. In return, he did all the hands-on stuff, like running after the bad guys and occasionally knee-capping them.

With a small humpf, Edie turned back to McGarrett, who was once again focused on trying to get the sobbing and hiccupping child in his arms to calm down. "You gonna give me some answers or do I need to talk to him," he asked in between lulling 'shoo shoo' noises, one hand aimlessly waving towards the guy on the floor.

"Well," Edie shrugged, unfazed. "Considering how well _that_ went last time . . ."

"Just start talking," McGarrett hissed.

"Alright. First off, we have no clue who these ninjas are, but I'm guessing they're after the same guy we are."

McGarrett shot her a confused look, probably for the ninja comment, before his head started to move in some sort of a headshake-nod, eyebrows bouncing upwards knowingly. "Given the fact that the two of you are working with Kipton, I'm guessing you're not looking for _Danny_ Williams."

At the mention of that name, the little girl's head shot up at McGarrett. She looked at him with huge, questioning eyes and blurted something out that sounded like "Danno?"

"Shhh, Gracie," McGarrett cooed and began rocking her up and down again. "Danno's okay. Don't worry." After he made sure the girl was somewhat reassured by that, he looked back up, his eyes calculating. "Why would you think Matt Williams is here?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," Edie stated matter of factly, which got her an eye roll from McGarrett. "Speaking of Matt Williams," she continued in what Bixler had dubbed her 'don't give me attitude' voice, "do you have any idea where he is?"

"Last I heard he fled Hawaii on a boat out of Kawela Bay."

Bixler let out a snort. "That's cute," he chuckled.

The night Matt Williams had decided to run with ten million of Pedro Fuentes' drug money, McGarrett had fed Bixler's and Edie's boss – Special Agent Edward Kipton – that same lie. As it turned out later, Williams had probably never even been to the North Shore of Oahu, let alone to Kawela Bay. Instead of a boat, he had had plane waiting for him at Kaleola Airport and – even though they hadn't been able to prove anything – if it hadn't been for McGarrett's misdirection, Matt Williams would probably not have been able to flee the country that night. That McGarrett still committed to that lie, after over two months and a coffeemaker to the head, kind of impressed Bixler. Not that he'd ever admit it.

"It's the truth," McGarrett insisted.

"Sure it is."

"Guys!" Edie snapped, throwing her arms up exasperatedly. Bixler scowled. "You sure you don't know where he is? 'Cause this time, we _will _prosecute you for obstruction if you're withholding information or attempt to lead us into the wrong direction again," she continued all business-like. "You're not doing anyone any favors by interfering with a _federal investigation_."

Bixler almost had to roll his eyes at how his partner emphasized her last words. At least according to his instincts, McGarrett wasn't a guy who responded well to the 'I'm so superior' approach.

"What makes you think he's back on the island anyway?"

"We got our sources."

"Same sources that lead you to believe he was hiding out here?"

"No." Edie defiantly clamped her mouth shut. Thinking that Matt Williams was at McGarrett's place had been their very own fuck-up, so Bixler figured that that was the reason why his partner didn't elaborate for once. Apparently, she didn't feel the need to staple a metaphorical sign reading 'incompetent overachiever' to her forehead.

"Okay then," McGarrett sighed resigned, effectively ending the conversation. The sounds of the nearing backup and ambulances finally reached them and, with a barely audible wince, he pushed himself (plus sobbing child) up from the counter and shuffled towards the chair that still stood midway between him and Edie.

* * *

><p>It was already getting dark outside, and Kono was on her way home from a long day at the beach (for once, the waves had been decent on one of her days off) when she heard the call for backup to McGarrett's address. After joining Five-0 and getting the equipment installed in her car, she barely ever listened to the radio anymore; turning on the police scanner as soon as she got into the car had quickly become a habit.<p>

She tried Steve on his cell but no one picked up. Neither did Danny, for that matter. Her third call was to Chin, who turned out to be just as clueless as she was about what was going on at the boss' house. However, he promised to double time it over there. Kono herself stomped the accelerator through the floor. Rounding the corner to Piikoi Street barely fifteen minutes later, she could already see the blue and red lights flickering in the distance.

She parked next to an HPD squad car and watched two uniformed officers wrestle a man all dressed in black down from the front door towards one of the waiting ambulances. Kono jogged up to the house where she found a rookie cop she knew from her time at the academy guarding the door.

"Hey Kale," she said with a tight smile. "What the hell is going on here?"

"You think anyone around here tells me anything? Not everyone goes from the academy straight to the Governor's 'elite task force'," he said making air quotes.

Kono just gave him a look. "McGarrett in there?" she asked with a worried glance at the two ambulances parked in front of the house.

"Think so." Kale shrugged. "Didn't see him come out."

"Okay, thanks." Kono gave him an appreciative slap on the shoulder and made her way inside. The living room was a disaster; not quite reaching the 'the General Pak incident' level of destruction just yet, but coming dangerously close nonetheless. Glass crunched under her feet as she carefully maneuvered her way around overturned furniture towards the kitchen from where she could hear voices.

Inside, Steve was sitting on a chair next to the kitchen table – alive and breathing, thank God – with what looked like Grace fused to his chest. One paramedic, a young guy with short blonde hair, was busy cleaning a cut on Steve's forehead while an older one seemed to unsuccessfully try and pry the little girl away from him.

"Boss?"

Steve looked up at her, revealing the massive amount of already dried blood on the left side of his face. "Kono . . . what are you doing here?" He ogled her for a moment, his forehead creased with confusion, which Kono attributed to a probable concussion. Assuming it was at all possible to concuss that cement head of his.

The blonde paramedic firmly grabbed his patient's head and turned the wound back towards the ceiling light. "I said don't move," he snapped, sounding annoyed.

"I heard the call for backup on the scanner," she replied, staring at Steve and Grace. "Are you okay, boss?"

"Fine," Steve assured her, a bit too quickly and with a cocky smile that said 'you should have seen the other guy'.

"Is that Grace? Is she okay?" Kono crouched down next to Steve's chair and gently patted the little girl's knee. She was wearing her pajamas and seemed to be using the damp strands of hair covering her face as a curtain to shield herself from the rest of the world.

"She's a bit freaked out but . . . she's good," Steve assured her, patting Grace on the back as she hiccupped.

"I'm sorry, how did you get in here?" a sharp female voice suddenly spoke up from behind Kono. She whirled around and found two strangers lurking in the doorway to the kitchen. One of them was a thirty-ish looking woman, her attire – long dark hair tied up in a loose bun, suit pants and a simple white blouse – practically screaming federal agent at anyone looking at her. The other one was a beefy giant in a polo shirt and dress pants and had a somewhat creepy smile on his face. He wasn't as obvious about it as the woman, but was clearly he was also a fed, probably FBI, if Kono's rookie instincts were anything to go by.

"It's okay, she's with me," Steve informed the two calmly.

At that, the big guy pushed past his partner and stuck out his hand towards Kono, waiting for her to shake it.

"Kono Kalakaua," she said, forcing a smile as she hesitantly grabbed the guy's gigantic paw.

"Hey there, gorgeous," he said, wiggling his bushy eyebrows suggestively. "Special Agent Conrad Bixler, Federal Bureau of Investigation."

"Yeah, you're special alright," the woman mocked from the door, sounding annoyed.

Kono had to forcefully yank her hand free from the big guy's firm grasp. He just continued to grin at her broadly.

"Edith Lake, I'm with him. Unfortunately," the woman introduced herself, pointing a thumb at Bixler.

"What happened here?" Kono asked, turning back around to where Steve was sitting.

"I'd love to brief you," Bixler said from behind her before Steve even realized she was talking to him again. Looks like the words 'McGarrett' and 'concussion' were not mutually exclusive after all. "In detail, maybe over dinner or a cup of coffee," Bixler added and Kono just stared straight ahead, pretending she hadn't heard him.

"Dude, what the hell?" Lake snapped at her partner.

Steve looked at Kono somewhat apologetically, his left pupil twice the size of the right one. "Three guys, all dressed in black, just showed up here about half an hour ago. According to those two" – he nodded towards the two FBI agents, which earned him another huff from the blond paramedic – "they were looking for Danny's brother, Matt. Things got a little out of hand."

"I can see that. You sure you okay?"

He just shrugged. "Can you take her?" Steve asked nodding towards Grace as the paramedic started tugging on his shirt below the left arm.

"Sure." Kono knelt down beside the two again and put a hand on one of Grace's fists that still seemed to be clinging on to Steve's shirt for dear life. She gently started rubbing circles across the back of the small hand with her thumb. "Hey Gracie," she tried in a whisper, "it's Kono."

Grace peeked up from behind her hair and blinked a few times at her.

"Hey." Kono smiled softly. "Listen, you need to let go of Uncle Steve for just a second so that the doctor can check him out, okay?"

Grace looked up at Steve, who smiled encouragingly back down at her.

Kono felt the little girl's hands slowly release their death grip on the shirt. She helped a little untangling her fingers and then let Grace climb off the chair. "There she is." Kono hoisted her up to settle her on her hips and moved a few steps aside to give the paramedic some more room to work. He went on to cut Steve's already ripped shirt open – which nevertheless earned him a scowl from the boss – to check out a nasty looking gash along his side. Meanwhile, the older paramedic made another attempt to get good look at Grace.

"Looks like a tangential gunshot wound," the blond paramedic kneeling next to Steve announced. "This is gonna need stitches, man," he added, probing the wound with two gloved fingers.

"Speaking of tangential gunshot wounds," Kono said, gently stroking Grace's head while the older paramedic shone a light in her eyes. "Where's Danny? I tried calling him earlier but he didn't pick up."

Steve frowned, probably not understanding what the common denominator between Danny and tangential gunshot wounds was. With a shake of his head, he seemed to let the thought go, though, and let his now calculating gaze wandered from Kono to the two FBI agents then back to Kono and to Grace. "He took a flight back to Jersey this afternoon to see his mother," Steve finally stated flatly. Kono waited for more information but Steve just turned his attention back to the paramedic and his tangential gunshot wound.

"Oookaay," Kono drawled. That was vaguely ominous, but she feigned understanding nonetheless. The boss clearly didn't want to give her any details in front of the audience. So she decided to just run with it for now. However, she couldn't help but wonder if Steve withheld information for Grace's sake or because Danny was in trouble with the FBI . . . and some kind of ninja cult that decided to take their frustration out on Steve's recently rebuilt living room.

"So he's probably still on the plane. New Jersey, that's at least a ten hour flight, right?" Kono added, talking to no one in particular. If they were providing Danny with some sort of an alibi here, then the least she could do was make it a bit airtighter.

"Alright," the blonde paramedic said as he finished taping a big white, puffy bandage over the gash in Steve's side. "Looks like the bullet deflected off a rib. You got lucky, but you should definitely get that x-rayed, just to be on the safe side. Sorry, but you gonna need to come with us."

To Kono's surprise, the boss just nodded, seemingly willingly accepting his fate. He stood up, wincing slightly, and motioned for Kono to give him Grace back.

"Uhm, you shouldn't—" the paramedic started to protest, but Steve had the little girl already settled on his hip.

"It's fine," he said, gently pushing loose strands of hair out of Grace's face and smiling at her. "Hey Kono? Can you call Chin, tell him to meet us at the ER. They took the guys who broke in here to Queens, too, and I wanna have a little chat with them, find out what the hell's going on here." Aha. That explained the un-Steve-ish cooperativeness with the paramedic's decision. He was going to Queens for the interrogation; the stitches would just be an added bonus.

"Uhm, I already called Chin on my way over here. He should be here any minute."

"Excuse me," Agent Lake interrupted, glaring at Steve. "You're not gonna talk to anyone. This is part of a federal investigation."

"I'm gonna get some answers from those guys," Steve shot back, giving her a menacing look.

"Like hell you will."

"What? You wanna try to stop me?"

Kono was impressed how Steve still managed to look intimidating, even with a bashed in head.

"No, but he will," Lake snapped, jerking a thumb in her beefy partner's direction.

"You want me to call the Governor and find out what she thinks about all this?"

"Frankly, I don't care about what the Governor thinks. Since this" – she started flailing her arms around in an almost Danny-like fashion – "seems to be related to the Matt Williams case, it falls in our jurisdiction. Nothing even the Governor can do about that."

"We'll see," Steve snapped back and grabbed his phone from where he had left it on the kitchen table. "Hey, Kono," he said, mid-dial. "Could you do me a favor and grab my gun and badge from the nightstand in the bedroom?"

"You didn't lock those away with her in the house?" she asked gesturing towards Grace. "That's grossly negligent, boss." Kono shook her head and added a scolding sigh to press her point home. "Sometimes it's like you _want_ Danny to shoot you. You're practically asking for it."

Steve sighed, suddenly looking exhausted. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he muttered and Kono decided to take pity on him for once. She smiled and turned around to quickly run upstairs. "Oh and grab me a clean shirt!"

"Sure thing, boss," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand and left the room.

When Kono returned to the kitchen, she found Chin standing next to Steve and Grace, a deliciously smelling pizza box in her cousin's hands. Steve was busy talking on the phone with the Governor while the two FBI agents just glared at him.

"Hey cuz, what's this? You decide to stop for a snack on the way over here?"

Chin grinned at her. "Nope, the pizza was already here. Kale almost arrested the delivery guy on his quest to get paid for this. Thought I'd put him out of his misery. By the way, you owe me twenty bucks, McGarrett."

Steve just smiled at him in a concussed 'yeah, suuure' kind of way.

"I'm an excellent tipper," Chin added innocently.

**-to be continued-**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Thanks, again, to everyone who took the time to leave a review! I appreciate it a lot and I'm really happy to hear that you are enjoying the story so far!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

"So, what did the doctor say?"

Bixler dropped down heavily in the chair next to Edith. They were hard plastic chairs, bolted to the wall of the seemingly unending hospital corridor and, true to the cliché, incredibly uncomfortable. He pinched the bridge of his nose and yawned. "It's not looking good."

Edith just stared at her partner for a moment, wondering if she had missed something along the way. It had been a pretty confusing day after all. "What do you mean, it's not looking good?"

"The doctor said that he suffered an 'intracranial hemorrhage'," he explained, air-quoting the medical term, and added, "It's a brain bleed or something."

"A what- a brain bleed?" Edith sputtered out. "But . . . he was fine." She slumped back in her chair, shaking her head in disbelieve. "He even walked to the ambulance, Bix. How's this possible? I mean, did they hit a tree or something on their way over here?"

Bixler gave her a sideways look as he leaned forward in his chair, propping his elbows up on his knees. "I don't know," he groaned tiredly. "The doctor said he suddenly just started seizing. According to him, these things can be tricky in that way. Don't show up on scans until it's too late."

"Too late, as in . . . he could die?"

Bixler shrugged. "I guess."

"Damn."

"Edie, come on. You don't even now this guy. Don't tell me you've grown attached already," he said in a patronizing voice and started patting her knee. "Besides, he's a career criminal who almost murdered a child tonight."

Edith huffed. "True, but still . . . I hate it when they die."

"You picked the wrong job."

Edith punched her partner in the arm for that. But, yeah, maybe she did.

"So, what about the other guy McGarrett didn't kill?" Bixler asked after a pause.

"I'm not a doctor but, barring any brain bleeding complications, he should be fine; eventually." Edith had spoken to his doctor a few minutes ago. Aside from a shattered wrist and a broken cheekbone, the guy had only suffered a colossal amount of bruises in the fight. "He's out of surgery and should wake up in a few minutes. They won't let us talk to him before tomorrow, though."

Bixler just nodded as he took in the information silently.

"Kipton called," Edith continued when her partner didn't say anything.

"Was he pissed?"

"No. It was weird, man," she said, scrunching up her nose as she thought back to the particularly awkward conversation with their boss.

"How so?"

"Well, he said the Assistant Director called him, who, apparently, got a call from the Governor. Anyway, long story short, Five-0 is to stay clear of anything _directly_ related to the Williams case due to conflict of interest. They do, however, get to be a part of the ninja home invasion investigation."

"How is that weird?" Bixler shifted in his chair again, apparently still trying – and failing – to find a comfortable position. "Sounds like your typical political ass-kissing compromise to me."

"Kipton wants us to coordinate with Five-0. Find out who these guys are and why they were looking for Matt Williams."

"Us, as in you and me?" Bixler looked at her nonplussed. "But . . . what about Williams? He's on the island, who is looking for him while we're investigating these punks? Can't he send a probationary agent to supervise Five-0? Or maybe Howard Potts. He's got like, what, one or two months left before he retires?"

"I don't know what Kipton thinks he's doing . . . going after Williams alone. But he just said 'he'd handle it'," Edith said, giving Bixler her best impression of the affected tone their boss' voice usually held.

"That's not vague at all."

"Tell me about it. He kind of just hung up after that."

Bixler sighed heavily. "Okay, so . . . let's go and 'coordinate'." He clapped his hands in a 'let's get to work' kind of gesture and stood up. "Where are McGarrett and his gang anyway?"

"Probably still in the ER." Edith could hear her spinal column pop softly as she got up, too. She tiredly stretched out her back as they slowly started their way down the corridor and towards the elevator. "I tried checking on him earlier, but that girl and her cousin . . . they're like pit bulls or something. Wouldn't even let me talk to McGarrett's doctor."

"Do they know that they're supposed to coordinate with us?"

Edith absently patted her partner on the back, remembering how much he hated working with non-FBI law enforcement. "I don't know."

"Well, let's go and find out," he said with fake excitement as he pushed the ground floor button in the elevator.

"You know," Edith said as the doors slit shut in front of them. "Maybe it's some sort of secret ninja-SEAL kind of thing, where he applies pressure to, you know, the jugular vein or something and hours later the person just starts bleeding from the brain and drops dead." She snapped her fingers. "Like that."

"Yeah, probably."

* * *

><p>"Don't you think we should do something?"<p>

"Like what, cuz?"

"I don't know, man. But this can't be good for either of them."

"They both look pretty comfortable to me."

"But . . . oh look, there he goes again."

Kono threw up both hands in defeat. She and Chin watched as Steve – who was lying on a bed in the far corner of the emergency room, propped up on a mountain of pillows, snoring peacefully – slowly started listing to the left and then progressed to slide down a little. On his chest, face down, all fours dangling off the sides and also fast asleep, Grace slid right along with him. And again, just like the uncounted times before, Steve twitched – right before he would topple over and face-plant into the floor – and pushed himself back upright, not even bothering to wake up in the process.

In a way, it was like watching a really slow tennis match. Next, they would start tilting to the right and Steve would catch himself in the last moment again – probably all thanks to some freaky SEAL-instinct-thing that got drilled into his brain and made sure that he stayed vertical, even when unconscious.

Steve and Grace had been like this ever since he had gotten x-rayed and stitched up about three hours ago. As soon as the doctor had snapped off his latex gloves, Steve had declared he was good to go and ready to sign out AMA. The doctor had wanted him to stay overnight, but Steve wouldn't hear any of it. He had gotten up and taken a few wobbly steps towards the nurses' desk to sign the necessary forms, when Grace had launched herself at him and effectively tackled him back onto the bed. Minutes later, he had been snoring away peacefully, with Grace lying on top of him.

Kono had been a little worried about both of them, but a nurse had quickly reassured her that Grace was probably just exhausted and that Steve was going to be fine, as long as they woke him up every few hours to check if his brain was still working – just to be sure. And since it was a slow night in the ER, the staff had let them stay right where they were.

Kono huffed. Watching Steve and Grace sleep had been fun the first hour or so, but now it was quickly becoming really boring. Every time the two had started their slow motion descent down the pillow mountain, both Kono and Chin had jumped up from their seats to do . . . something, like throwing themselves on the floor to cushion their fall. However, when the fourth or fifth time had come around, neither of the cousins had bothered to even get up anymore, knowing zombie-SEAL Steve would catch himself in the last possible moment.

"Is there any pizza left?" Kono asked, ogling the box sitting on the chair next to Chin. Her cousin had clung to that thing as dearly as Grace was clinging to Steve.

"You know, there's no way Steve's gonna pay me back for that if you keep eating it."

"Don't worry about the money, cuz," Kono said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "It's on Danny tonight. I told you to get in on the bet."

The doctor had confirmed Kono's suspicion of an – albeit mild – concussion and thus won her twenty bucks from Danny. Ever since the climbing accident – in the course of which Steve had taken a gigantic rock to the head and walked away with just a scratch on his forehead (oh yeah, and a broken arm) – Danny had insisted that McGarrett heads were inconcussable. Kono had bet him that, at the rate they were going, Steve would manage to prove him wrong by the end of the year.

The bullet he had taken to the side had indeed deflected off a rib, cracking it in the process. Aside from a few additional bruises, he was fine. "So a normal day at the office," had been Chin's comment when the doctor had told them.

Now, her cousin was once again focused on his iPad, while all she could do was sit around, eat pizza and wait. Either for Danny to finally call her back and shed some light on the whole Matt situation, or for Chin to find a lead for them to pursue. The thought of going home and to bed didn't even cross her mind.

"You got anything yet?" Kono asked around a mouthful of cold pizza.

"Not really." Chin sighed heavily. "At least nothing that connects these guys to Danny's brother."

After getting the dead guy's fingerprints, it hadn't taken Chin very long to identify the three thugs that had broken into Steve's house. All three of them were small time criminals and had been in the system ever since they could talk, with records longer than the iPad could display.

Kono slumped back in her chair and checked her phone again. She had left Danny two voice mail messages now. Vague ones, to make sure he didn't get a heart attack when he heard that strangers with guns had been in the same room as Grace. But he still hadn't called her back. The whole thing about Danny flying down to New Jersey to see his mother felt off. Especially since it conveniently seemed to coincide with Matt Williams' return to Hawaii.

"Did Steve say anything to you about . . . anything?"

Chin's head came up and he looked at her suspiciously "What do you mean?"

Kono blew out a breath, unsure where to start. "I don't know. Danny's brother. Danny. Anything."

She watched curiously, as Chin's gaze dropped to the floor and then wandered over to where Steve and Grace were sleeping. Even though her cousin's face remained impassive, Kono could see that he had the same iffy feeling about things as she did. "No," he finally said soberly.

"But there's gotta be something going on, right?" Kono said, shifting in her chair. She had been turning things over in her head ever since they had left Steve's house. But talking about it with Chin made her suddenly fidgety. "I mean, Danny disappearing the minute his brother shows back up on the radar. There's gotta be something going on there."

Chin's head suddenly snapped around and he looked at her with just a hint of indignation in his eyes. "What are you saying, cuz?"

Kono backed away from him ever so slightly, startled by the harshness in her cousin's voice. "Nothing," she managed to sputter out, crossing the arms in front of her chest defensively. "I . . . just thought that it's a little weird."

Chin sighed and seemed to relax a little. His gaze dropped to the floor again and when he looked back up at Kono, he smiled apologetically. "Sorry for snapping at you, cuz," he said, putting a hand on her knee in a conciliatory gesture. "It's just that" – there was a heavy pause and Chin squeezed her knee while he seemed to be searching for the right words – "we need to trust each other."

Kono just started at him for a moment. Then she felt her entire body crumple a little with relief and let out a small groan. Chin could get so touchy when it came to trust. "I know," Kono sighed, putting a reassuring hand on her cousin's back. "Trust me, I know. But," she added, trying to keep her tone light, "maybe . . . just maybe, Danny's disappearance has something to do with his brother." She could feel Chin's body going taut again so she picked up the pace and sputtered out, "And he told Steve all about it and he was gonna tell us but then he had Grace and this whole thing with the guys attacking him happened and he just didn't get a chance to talk to us yet."

"Maybe," Chin agreed, staring at Steve and Grace again. "Or maybe Danny just went off alone to deal with his brother and Steve didn't have a clue."

"Huh?" Kono managed eloquently, not entirely sure she just heard right.

"You think Steve would just watch Danny go after his brother alone, without backup?" He turned towards her again and raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"No, I don't," Kono said with mighty frown on her face. "But . . . what happened to the whole unwavering trust thing?" She clamped her mouth shut and waited for Chin's reaction, afraid she'd just taken another detour through that particular minefield.

His entire face melted into a resigned smile now. "Danny trusts us and we have to trust him," he simply said, being his eternally sage self.

"Buuut?" Kono drawled, narrowing her eyes at him.

"But people do stupid things when family gets involved."

"Oh yeah," Kono sighed, smiling back at him now. "I have some firsthand experience of that."

In that moment, a nurse came walking by. "Heads up," she said in a hushed voice as she reached Kono and Chin on her roundabout route over to a patient three beds over from Steve. "That FBI lady is coming back, and this time, she's bringing reinforcements." The nurse winked at them and was gone.

And sure enough, three seconds later, agents Lake and Bixler came walking into the ER and made their way straight up the where Chin and Kono were sitting next to Steve's bed. They both got up in an instant, ready to physically fight the agents, if necessary.

Lake, however, immediately raised both hands in a defensive gesture. "Woah, take it easy there, wonder twins," she said, unsuccessfully trying to defuse the situation by putting a note of lightness into her voice.

"What do you want now?" Kono asked irritably, stepping in between the agents and her boss' bed.

"Just to talk." The smile on Agent Lake's lips faltered and her expression along with her tone became serious. "I take it you have been informed that Five-0 is to stay clear of the Matt Williams case?"

Kono couldn't help but roll her eyes at that. "The Governor called about an hour ago," she informed the agents dryly.

"Then you know that we'll be working together on the incident from tonight?"

"Excuse me?" Nope, this was news as far as Kono was concerned.

Lake crossed her arms in front of her arrogantly. "The only reason you get to be part of the investigation in the first place, is because the Governor pulled some strings," she said, sounding snotty as hell. "Agent Bixler and I are here to make sure your investigation stays within its purview."

Behind her, Kono could hear Chin let out a small snort. "I hope that's not all you're planning to do," he said.

Lake gave him a fake smile. "We will, of course, also assist in the investigation."

Oh, thank you very much. Kono rolled her eyes extra dramatically at the comment and sighed. "That's not gonna be necessary."

"What about access to your databases?" Chin asked, ignoring her.

"We'll see about that."

"Is that your idea of 'working together'?" Chin deadpanned.

Lake huffed and then took a glance at her watch. "Look, it's late," she said, avoiding to answer him directly. "I'm going to make some phone calls and get back to you in the morning."

"Please, take your time," Kono said, faking a smile herself.

"Until then, let me just say again that you cannot be looking for Matt Williams. Is that . . . uhm . . . what's going on there?" Agent Lake's focus suddenly shifted and her hands started flailing at the bed behind Kono. She looked over her shoulder and saw that Steve had once again started his descent off the mountain of pillows.

With a dismissive wave of her hand, Kono told Lake not to worry about it. However, the agent's focus on the conversation seemed completely gone. She just kept staring past Kono's shoulder, her head moving along as Steve and Grace slid further down.

"Aren't you gonna do something?" She looked unnerved from Kono to Chin and then back to the bed. Her partner standing behind her seemed completely uninterested in the entire process. He just stared at Kono with a creepy smile on his lips, his eyes twitching occasionally in an attempted wink. With a shudder, Kono just turned around to the bed again, trying to ignore the two agents. Chin could deal with both of them.

"Hey, Commander McGarrett", Lake suddenly shrieked behind her, starting and unfortunate chain of events.

At the mention of his name, Steve's eyes snapped open. By now, he and Grace were already near the point of toppling over the edge of the bed. Finding himself off balance, Steve instinctively tried to push himself and Gracie upright with his right hand. He missed the mattress by a couple inches, though, which only added to their momentum. Barely half-awake and operating on autopilot, Steve managed to protectively wrap his left arm around Grace and roll onto his back before the two of them hit the floor.

"Ouch."

"Shit." Kono quickly crouched down next to the two, with Chin right behind her. She managed to untangle Grace from Steve, quickly checked her over for superficial damage and then hoisted her up in her arms. Just like Steve, Grace seemed a little shaken by the abrupt wake-up and just stared around the room with huge, bleary eyes.

Kono turned around to where Agent Lake still stood. She seemed to be shocked right down to the bone by what just happened – seriously, how was this woman an FBI agent? – but Kono decided to give her the death glare for good measure anyway.

With a sympathetic grin, Chin helped Steve sit up on the floor, while Kono dropped down on the next bed, still holding Grace in her arms. "You okay there, boss?" she asked with a small smile on her lips.

Steve blinked a couple more times and then ran a hand over his face to wipe away the remnants of sleep. A small wince escaped his mouth when he touched the apparently forgotten cut on his forehead. The noise let Grace's head snap up and her eyes quickly scanned to room until she found Steve sitting on the floor.

"Uncle Steve, are you okay?" she asked in a sleepy voice.

Steve answered with a goofy smile and a slow nod. "Yeah."

Grace scrunched up her face with newfound determination. She extricated herself from Kono's arms and quickly slid down the side of the bed. Afraid the little girl would reattach herself to Steve, Kono jumped up, but stopped when she saw that Grace merely crouched down beside him and started staring at the freshly stitched-up wound on his head.

"Does it hurt much?" she asked.

Steve seemed to struggle to keep his face serious. "Don't worry about it, Gracie," he told her and patted her knee.

"Well, it looks like it would hurt," she argued, sounding a lot like Danny all of a sudden.

"Okay, maybe it hurts a little," Steve admitted, not longer able to hold back a small chuckle.

Grace still remained dead serious. "When I hurt myself, Danno always kisses it better. It doesn't really make it hurt any less, but it always makes me feel better, you know?" She just looked at Steve for a moment and then asked, "Do you want me to try and kiss it better?"

"Sure, I'd love that."

Grace craned her neck up and carefully planted a soft kiss on Steve's forehead. Kono had to bite down on the insides of her lips to keep a wide grin from spreading across her face.

Once she was done, Grace crouched back down and pursed her lips, looking at Steve expectantly.

He gave her a broad smile. "Thanks, I feel _a lot_ better."

Grace smiled satisfied. She pushed herself back up and looked around the room in a 'my job here is done' kind of way.

This time, Kono couldn't hold back a snort.

**-to be continued-**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thanks, again, to everyone for reading and especially to those who took the time to leave a review! I really enjoy reading your thoughts :)

I'm sorry, but Danny still doesn't make an appearance in this chapter. He definitely will be more in the second half of the story, so don't worry. But for now the others are still trying to figure out what's going on . . .

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

A dull knocking sound woke Steve the next morning. He opened his eyes slowly and squinted when everything around him seemed to be unnaturally bright. This was definitely not his bedroom. Everything was white and sterile. The sunlight that flooded the room seemed to reflect off of everything, intensifying the brightness by a tenfold and making his head hurt.

Steve tried pushing himself upright, but had to realize that he was pinned down by a blanket. He looked around and found Grace, curled up into a small ball next to him. She was lying on top of the blanket, effectively weighing it down and trapping him under it, since the other side seemed to be tucked in under the mattress.

The door opened and Kono's head peeked around the corner, a bright smile lighting up her face when she realized his predicament. "Morning boss," she half-whispered, strolling into the room with Chin on tow.

"Morning," Steve whispered back. He ripped out the blanket from under the mattress and then carefully pushed it aside a little, trying not to wake up Grace as he slipped out of the bed. He remained seated on the edge and – to work out some of the tension in his muscles – he started stretching out his neck and shoulders. When he noticed that the entire left side of his back felt sore from the fall, he rolled the left arm in large circles a couple of times, but quickly reconsidered when the movement pulled painfully on the stitched in his side.

A cup of coffee appeared out of nowhere under his nose. "Thought you could use this," Kono said, still smiling. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm good," Steve said with a smile and gratefully took the paper cup from her hand. "Thanks."

"We stopped by your house and picked up some clean clothes for you and Grace," Chin said and set down a duffel bag next to Steve on the bed.

"Thanks, man." He took a sip of the still steaming hot coffee. "So, how bad is it?"

Chin sucked in a breath and then nodded to where Grace was still fast asleep on the bed. "Trust me, it was the right call to stay the night."

Steve just nodded. It was not like anyone had given him a choice in the matter. After the fall, he had been even woozier than before, seeing two of everything and everyone. It had taken not just Chin's help, but also the strong hands of a male nurse to drag his sorry ass to a room on the second floor without him face-planting into a wall. But now that his brain felt a lot less fuzzy, Steve remembered why he had agreed to go to Queens in the first place.

"So what about the guys from last night they brought in? Did you get anything from them yet?"

"Well, in case you don't remember," Chin said and raised his eyebrows at him questioningly, "one of them was D.O.A. We just checked in with the doctor on the other two. Unfortunately, one of them suffered a brain bleed. The doctor declared him brain dead about an hour ago. The other guy, Aaron Palea, had to have surgery but he's awake now. We can talk to him as soon as you're ready."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Steve said, stretching out his left side once more to loosen the still stiff muscles. The movement pulled on the stitches in his side again, and this time he let out a small wince. That seemed to set off some sort of alarm with Grace. Her head shot up and, with the eyes still closed, slowly lolled from one side to the other and back again. She looked like a blind mole searching for something. Something she didn't seem to be able to find, though, so after a few seconds, her head just dropped back down, planting her face into the blanket.

Kono tried hard but failed to stifle a snort, while Chin just grinned at Steve. "Looks like someone is a little protective after the events of the night," he said.

"Well, Danny told her to make sure I don't get into trouble," Steve explained with a shrug. "Good to know _someone_ listens to what he says."

He watched Grace sleep for a moment and smiled, glad that – after everything – she was still unharmed. Okay, maybe she was a little shaken after what had happened. And maybe that was the reason why she had refuse to go home with Kono last night, or why she had been too afraid to sleep alone in the big hospital bed next to his. But other than that, she was doing remarkably good. She was a tough little cookie. Plus, there was not a scratch on her, so Steve hoped that Danny would refrain from killing him once he heard about what had happened last night. Not that any of this was Steve's fault in the first place anyway, but Danny had a way of ignoring details like that.

Speaking of Danny. Steve grabbed his phone from the bedside table and checked if his partner had called at all, but found that he had only one missed call from Governor Jameson. Nothing else, not even a text. "Did Danny ever call you back?" he asked Kono, remembering that she had said something about leaving him voice mail messages last night.

The smile on her face faded and she shook her head. Steve watched as she exchanged a glance with her cousin. Chin's face was unreadable as ever, but he could clearly see uneasiness spread all over the rookie's features.

"What's going on?"

Chin sighed and dropped down in a chair across from the bed. "Kono said you told her that Danny went to New Jersey to see his mother," he stated flatly.

"Yeah." Steve checked if Grace was still asleep before he elaborated. "He said his mother's sick and in the hospital and that he needed to fly down there and check in on her. Make sure she's going to be okay." Maybe his concussed brain was to blame, but only as he said it out loud, Steve realized how unlikely that scenario seemed to be even anywhere near the truth – especially with everything that had happened last night.

"Sooo," Kono started, nervously wrapping her fingers around each other. "There's nothing else he told you?"

"No." Steve just looked at her for a moment, doubt and worry were written all over her face. "Look, I know what this looks like," he started, not sure where he was going with this, because the whole situation looked so much like Danny went searching for his brother alone, without telling anyone – not even Steve, who was the only one who knew what exactly had happened that night Matt had disappeared. But defending Danny, even if it was in front of Chin and Kono, who he trusted unconditionally, was like a reflex. "But –"

"Danny never left the island," Chin interrupted him. "We checked the flight manifests of every flight out of Oahu yesterday. His name didn't pop up anywhere."

"Damnit, Danny," Steve mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. His headache suddenly felt ten times worse that it had just a minute ago.

"What the hell is he doing?" Kono threw up both hands in frustration. She was pacing around the room like a trapped animal now, apparently slowly going crazy with a combination of worry and the desire to smack the bejesus out of Danny.

"I don't know," Steve sighed. "I guess Danny still thinks he can convince Matt to turn himself in."

"Yeah, but why is he lying to us?" Kono stopped at the window and put her hands on her hips. "I mean, he could have just told us what's going on. We could have helped."

Steve smiled resigned. No, Danny would not ask them for help. "He doesn't want to get us into trouble." Which, clearly, was working out very well.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"The night after we wrapped the Roan case, Danny and I went over to Matt's hotel room but he was gone. The FBI was there and . . . I sent them looking in the wrong direction."

"You did what?" Kono just stared at him.

"I told them Matt had a boat at Kawela Bay."

"So you lied to the FBI to help Matt escape?" she asked exasperatedly, not bothering to keep her voice down any longer. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked over to Chin. "Did you know about this?"

He shook his head. "Look, Kono-"

"What's going on?" a sleepy voice suddenly spoke up from behind Steve. He turned around to where Grace was still huddled up on his bed, looking at them with bleary eyes.

Kono forced a smile. "Nothing, honey. Don't worry about it."

"Okay." Grace untangled herself from the sheets, crawled over to where Steve was sitting and then looked at him very seriously. "Are you feeling better, Uncle Steve?"

"Much better," he said with a wink. "Hey Grace, Uncle Chin brought us some fresh clothes, so why don't you go into the bathroom and get changed real quickly so that we can get out of here and go have breakfast?"

Her face lit up with a huge smile. "Can we have pancakes?"

"Anything you want."

Grace grabbed her clothes from the bag and wandered off into the bathroom, closing the door behind her and leaving the rest of them sitting and standing around in awkward silence for a while.

"Why did you do it?" Kono asked eventually, staring out of the window. "And Chin, don't tell me that this is like you covering for Uncle when he took that money," she added and turned around, glaring at her cousin. "Because, guess what, that doesn't make it right."

She then looked at Steve with a somewhat forlorn expression on her face. "Look, I get that he's Danny's brother, but . . . we're cops, too. Aren't we supposed to be on the same side as the FBI?" She blew out a breath and shook her head helplessly. "Just . . . why did you do it?"

Steve shrugged, not sure what to tell her. That night, he hadn't really thought about what he was doing or why. He had just seen that look in Danny's eyes. That fear that he was losing his brother and that there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing he could do to make it right.

"In a way, it was the same as with the money we took from the asset forfeiture locker," he said, hoping she'd understand.

"But that was to save Chin's life," Kono argued, creasing her forehead in confusion. "Danny's brother messed up. I'm sorry, but don't you think he should face the consequences for what he did?"

"Of course, Kono. It's just that . . ." He trailed off, not sure how to explain to her that he hadn't lied to the FBI agents to help Matt escape. He hadn't done it for Matt at all. He'd done it for Danny, because Danny had needed things to be different that night. He had needed Matt to turn himself in and do the right thing. Not have him taken down like a criminal on the run. Danny had needed a chance to make things right, because that was just what big brothers did. Fixing things. Steve knew how it was. He was a big brother, too.

"It's just that sometimes," Chin said, his voice still soft and patient, "especially when family gets involved, the line between right and wrong gets blurry. I'm not saying that it makes breaking the law right, but the people you care about have to come first, Kono. Always. Sometimes you just have to trust your gut. Sometimes you have to do what_ your gut_ tells you is right. And that doesn't mean that you don't respect the job, or the oath we took. It's just that sometimes things are –"

"Not that simple," Kono finished the thought for him. "Yeah, you told me that before."

She still didn't look convinced, though, and Steve couldn't blame her. It was a hard and painful process – especially for a rookie, fresh out of the academy, with all that textbook knowledge and that image of a black and white world in her head – to learn that there were different definitions of what's right and what's wrong. Sometimes you had to make tough choices in life, especially as a cop. You took that oath on that first day of the job and wasn't just an empty promise. You meant it, protect and serve, be one of the good guys. But what if breaking that promise was the only way to save someone you cared about?

"Look, Kono, I didn't do it to help Matt escape, I did it to help Danny give his brother another chance to turn himself in. Maybe it wasn't the right thing to do, but Danny . . . he just wasn't ready to give up on Matt. I know that why I did it doesn't really make a difference in the end, but-"

"No, it does. It does make a difference," Kono said, her voice softer now. She sighed and looked at him, a hint of a smile crossing her lips. "It makes a difference to me," she added earnestly and Steve knew she understood.

"Good," he said, smiling back at her.

"And, besides, I guess getting your head bashed in with a coffeemaker is punishment enough." Kono raised her eyebrows and pointedly looked at the cut on his forehead before she dropped down on a chair next to Chin.

"She's got a point there," Chin said with a relieved smile. He put a hand on his cousin's knee and gave it a light squeeze.

"So . . . all this is my fault after all," Steve said, shaking his head in disbelieve.

"Absolutely," Kono confirmed with a dimply smile.

"It's always your fault, brah," Chin agreed.

"Right."

"So, what are we going to do about Danny?" Chin asked after a short pause, his demeanor serious again. "He's not answering his phone. I guess he turned it off."

"How do you figure?" Steve asked with a frown.

"When we couldn't find his name on any of the flight manifests, I tried triangulating the GPS in his cell, but no luck," Chin explained. "Unfortunately, it can't be turned on remotely."

"Did you guys get _any_ sleep last night?"

Chin and Kono just smiled at each other.

"Alright," Steve said, getting up off the bed just a bit too quickly. The whole room started spinning for a moment and he tried hard to not let the dizziness show in front of his team. He grabbed the bedside table for support and tried to concentrate on Chin and Kono. All four of them. "Only way to find Danny is to find Matt," he said through gritted teeth.

"Hmmhm." Kono looked at him skeptically, a smile tugging at her lips. "Can you even walk straight?"

"Don't push it," Steve warned, stabbing a finger in her general direction. He grabbed the bag with his clothes off the bed and went to knock on the bathroom door. "You almost done in there, Grace?"

* * *

><p>When Steve came back out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he found Kono sitting on his bed behind Grace, trying to braid her hair in pigtails like she usually wore it. With a mighty frown on her face and her tongue sticking out between her lips, Kono looked wildly determined and intensely concentrated. Grace, on the other hand, looked like she was in a substantial amount of pain. Chin was watching the scene with a mixed expression – partly sympathy for Grace's suffering, and partly amusement about Kono's failure at mastering the basics of being a girl.<p>

Steve shook his head and patted Kono on the shoulder. "Scoot over."

"You know how to braid pigtails, boss?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him and not believing it for a second. But she still slipped off the bed and offered him her spot. "They teach you this stuff in the boy scouts?"

"I had a little sister growing up, remember?" Steve sat down on the bed and started on Grace's hair, parting it expertly with just the hairbrush. "Mary is way too uncoordinated to braid her own pigtails. But she went through this Pippi Longstocking phase and wouldn't wear her hair any other way," he explained, leaving out the part about their mother's death being the only reason why he had to learn how to braid pigtails in the first place. There was just no one else to do it for Mary and Steve had figured that the least he could do for his baby sister was to learn how to braid two goddamn pigtails.

Just as Steve was done tugging on both finished pigtails to see if they were perfectly even, his phone started ringing. He grabbed it from the bedside table but froze when he saw the caller ID.

Rachel.

Shit.

How on earth was he going to explain to her what had happened last night? Not telling her or playing things down significantly was kind of out of the question, since Grace would make sure that her mother got every last detail of her exciting night at Uncle Steve's house sooner or later anyway.

"Hey Rachel," he said into the phone, trying hard to keep his tone casual. Next to him, Grace started bouncing up and down at the mention of her mother's name.

"_Hello Steve, I hope it's not too early to call? What time is it there now, eight in the morning?"_

"Don't worry about it, we're up," Steve said and frowned. Wasn't she back in their time zone yet?

"_Listen, Steve, I'm really sorry about this, but I'm not going to be able to pick up Grace at noon."_

"Is everything okay?" Steve tried to not sound too concerned. He didn't want to worry Grace.

"_The weather here has been awful all day. They had to ground all the planes. I have been stuck at this bloody airport for hours now."_ She sighed and continued after a short pause, _"It's clearing up now and I've been told that the plane will leave within the next couple hours, but . . . with layover and all, I probably won't be back until tomorrow, and Stan is in Indonesia all week, so-"_

"Don't worry about Grace, Rachel," Steve tried to reassure her. "We're getting along great. She can stay with me until either you or Danny get back here."

"_I am so terribly sorry about this, Steve,"_ she said, sounding more distraught than before. _"I'm sure this is not what you had planned for the weekend."_

"No, but spending time with Grace beats pretty much anything, so, again, don't worry about it." Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Kono draw a heart with her fingers on her chest while she drawled out a mushy 'awww' sound. Grace giggled.

Rachel sighed, this time in relief. _"Thank you, Steve, I really appreciate what you're doing. Would you mind putting Grace on for just a minute, please?"_

"Sure." He held the phone out to Grace, carefully covering the mouthpiece with his thumb. "Here's your mommy for you," he said, leaning over to her and dropping his voice conspiratorial, "Just don't tell her about what happened last night yet, okay? I don't want her to be worried."

Grace pouted a little confused, but then nodded and took the phone from him. "Hey mommy," she said cheerily and Steve prayed that she would stick to the plan.

"Hey boss? What are we gonna do with her?" Kono asked, waving a hand at Grace. "I thought we were gonna go looking for Danny?"

Steve shrugged. He hadn't planned that far ahead.

". . . Daddy wanted to take me to the water park but . . ."

"Maybe ask Kamekona if he'll watch her for a few hours?" Chin suggested. "At least she knows him."

Steve shook his head. "I don't think that's such a good idea after last night. She's putting on a tough front now, but I think she's still kind of freaked out by everything." He was half listening to what Grace was saying on the phone while he spoke to make sure she didn't accidentally slip up.

". . . and then we spent the entire afternoon snorkeling. I saw a fish that looked exactly like the one from The Little Mermaid . . ."

"Well, we can take her with us to HQ for now," Kono said. "We can put her in Danny's office and she can draw or something."

"Yeah, that's probably best for now."

". . . okay, bye mommy. I love you too!"

Good girl.

"What are we gonna do about Palea?" Chin asked.

"We're going to get some answers from him. Kono, can you take Grace somewhere for breakfast while we talk to him?" Steve asked, grabbing his wallet from the bedside table. "It's on me," he added, pulling out his credit card.

"You might not want give her that," Chin warned with a smile.

"Breakfast," Steve reminded Kono, holding the card in front of her face.

She just shook her head with pursed lips and took the card from him.

* * *

><p>The night had been about six hours too short for Edith's taste. With a styrofoam cup of strong, black coffee in her hand, she tiredly shuffled behind her partner across the lobby of Queens Medical and towards the elevators.<p>

"So," Bixler said as they walked into the shiny silver cabin that forced Edith to look at her over-tiredly looking reflection from every possible angle, "fourth or second floor?" He expectantly raised a brow at her and let his index finger hover over the buttons.

Edith sighed. Palea was on the fourth floor, McGarrett on the second. They would have to talk to both of them eventually, and Edith wasn't exactly looking forward to either of those conversations. A part of her hoped that McGarrett had gotten his head bashed in really good last night and that he would be out of commission for a few days. She had heard some pretty alarming stories about the guy's unorthodox methods and, why yes, she was mildly concerned that it was now up to her and Bix to make sure that he stayed in line and didn't go after Matt Williams himself.

"Hmmm, fourth," Edith decided and took another sip from her coffee. "You know me, I like to aim high," she added with a sheepish smile, pleased with her own little joke.

Bixler snorted. "You're just avoiding confrontation," he said as he pushed the button with the big four on it.

"I am not avoiding confrontation," Edith replied with mock outrage. "I'm choosing to confront the criminal over confronting the cop. I would call that courageous."

Bixler was not impressed. "You're choosing the drugged up criminal with a broken face over the scary Navy SEAL. I'll either call that avoiding or being a coward. Your choice."

"Whatever," Edith scowled and marched out of the elevator as soon as the doors slid open with a soft 'ding'.

"Hey, what's going on over there?" Bixler suddenly asked, his voice urgent and serious, as they walked down one of the ever identical looking hospital corridors.

Edith had noticed the commotion a little further down the hallway, too. "I don't know," she said with a shrug, picking up the pace. "Shit, that's Palea's room." Doctors and nurses were rushing past them, yelling all kinds of medical mumbo-jumbo at each other.

Edith didn't dare enter the small room, afraid she would only be in the way. Bixler remained right behind her. The drapes in front of the window were only halfway closed, so Edith took a peeked inside Palea's room. She saw a whole bunch of doctors working on their patient. Machines were beeping frantically in the background and lights flickered along in their rhythm.

There was a young doctor standing at the nurses' desk in the hallway. He was staring blankly ahead to where his colleagues were apparently in the process of trying to save Palea's life.

"Hey, sorry." Edith hurried over to the young man. "What's wrong with him?" she asked, jerking a thumb towards the room behind her.

They guy kept staring straight ahead and shrugged. "I'm just an intern," he said absently.

Edith grabbed his arm. "Hey," she said firmly. "You _do_ know what the blinky lights and the alarms mean though, right?" She pulled out her badge from the back pocket of her pants and shoved it into the intern's face. "I'm with the FBI, that man is in our custody. Just . . . give me some answers."

The intern shrugged again. "He just all of a sudden became tachypnic, no idea why."

Frustrated, Edith pressed her lips together in a thin line. "Is that bad?" she asked through gritted teeth and mentally cursed herself (and McDreamy's perfect hair) for never paying attention to the medical stuff on Grey's Anatomy.

"That depends, really, but yeah, looks like that guy's in serious trouble," the intern said with a slow motion nod.

Edith just glared at the young doctor, unsatisfied with the answer. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"He started having trouble breathing, okay," the intern said, sounding like a belligerent child. "His heart rate shot through the roof, the rest of his vitals were tanking . . . he was fine just a minute ago, though. I've never seen anything like this."

Oh, really, with all those years and years of experience under your belt? Edith could barely suppress the urge to roll her eyes at the guy. She took a deep breath and focused on Palea instead. "How serious is this?"

Another shrug. "Doesn't look good."

"Shit."

"Hey, what's going on here?" a familiar voice droned from a few yards down the hallway.

Shit indeed.

McGarrett and Kelly had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The two men rushed to Palea's room but they, too, stopped at the door when they saw the frantically working doctors and nurses inside. McGarrett turned around to Edith and Bixler and just raised his eyebrows at them, apparently expecting an explanation of what the hell was going on.

So, this is what she got for wishing the man an incapacitating head injury: their only lead dying right in front of them, and, on top of that, a pissed off McGarrett.

Karma, you incessant bitch.

"Doesn't look good," Bixler explained and unnecessarily added, "maybe a brain bleed," nudging Edith in the side with his elbow.

McGarrett just gave him an irritated look, either not getting the joke or not finding it funny. Probably both.

"No, the symptoms don't suggest any kind of intracranial hemorrhage," the intern said, dead serious.

This time, Edith did roll her eyes at the guy. It was only then that she noticed how quiet everyone and everything in Palea's room had gotten. A grey-haired doctor (whose name Edith couldn't quite remember) stepped out, snapping a pair of latex gloves off his hands and tossing them into a medical waste bin next to the nurses' station. He looked at the four of them and shook his head. "Sorry," he simply said, "there was nothing we could do for him."

"What happened?" McGarrett asked before Edith had even processed the news. "Was there some kind of complication from the surgery?"

"I doubt it," the doctor said and waved a nurse from Palea's room over to join them. She carried something in her gloved hand. The doctor grabbed her wrist and raised it up, showing the object she was holding to the four of them without having to touch it himself. "We found this on the floor next to the bed," he explained.

"A syringe," Edith said, only partly because she felt like someone needed to state the obvious. She also hoped it would maybe make them take that gigantic thing out of her face a lot faster. God, she hated needles. And hospitals in general, at least as long as they came with old, non-McDreamy doctors.

Next to Edith, McGarrett leaned forward and squinted at the huge syringe. She shuddered a bit in spite of herself. Show-off. Okay, so the big Navy SEAL is not scared of torture instruments. Great. She could cross those off her list of things that would help her keep the guy in line. "You think someone injected him with something?" McGarrett asked when he was finished staring.

The doctor sighed heavily and then spoke, sounding incredible bored. "My guess would be that someone injected air into the patient's IV, causing an air embolism."

"That's what killed him?" Edith asked.

"When air is injected into an IV, the bubble – we call this an air embolism – travels to the heart and then to the lungs," the doctor explained. "The capillaries in the lungs are far too narrow to allow for the embolism to pass. The bubbles get entangled in the blood vessels, effectively stopping the blood flow. It fits the symptoms Mr. Palea presented with. The body thinks the blood cannot be sufficiently oxygenated because of lack of air, which leads to increased respiration. Unfortunately, we only realized what was going on when it was already too late."

Edith had zoned out at some point during the doctor's lecture. It was all gibberish to her anyway. Everyone else seemed to be really interested in what he had to say, though, so she waited patiently until the doctor's lips stopped moving. "So, what you're saying is that someone just killed him?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"That's what it looks like anyway. We'll have to get a chest x-ray to confirm it."

"Then we will take that syringe to go, please," Edith said, grinning a little and thinking she was being funny.

The doctor just raised an eyebrow at her, before he turned to the nurse who was still holding the syringe. "Nela, please see if you can find a bag for that." Nela nodded and went to rummage through drawers behind the nurses' station.

"What kind of timeframe are we looking at here?" McGarrett asked.

The doctor shrugged. "A couple minutes between injection and the first symptoms . . . another ten to fifteen minutes of resuscitation attempts."

"So, whoever did this is long gone."

"I don't get it," Bixler said, shaking his head. "Who would kill Palea?"

"Looks like whoever sent these guys to my house last night is tying up loose ends," McGarrett said and ran a hand over his mouth, fingers lingering on his lips. He looked lost in thought for just a moment but then quickly snapped out of it. "Doctor, did you or anyone on your staff notice something suspicious or out of the ordinary around here? Maybe someone snooping around who doesn't belong here?"

"I didn't. I will check with the other doctors and nurses, but they would have said something if they had seen anything suspicious." He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his white coat and shrugged. "As you can see, it's a busy floor, we're constantly moving people in and out –" he trailed off and shook his head.

"Please ask anyway," McGarrett said, nodding his head in understanding.

"Sure."

"Do you have surveillance cameras on this floor?" Kelly asked.

"We have cameras covering the access points, elevator, staircase, and one covering the front of the nurses' station," the doctor added, indicating a small round camera above them with a nod of his head.

"Good," McGarrett said. "Chin, can you check in with building security, make sure they get us the footage from these cameras asap. Doctor, can you make sure no one touches anything in that room until the crime scene techs have been over it? I also want our ME, Max Bergman, to do the autopsy."

"Woah, hold on there for a second," Edith burst out before either the doctor or Kelly could answer. "Who put you in charge?" she asked, glaring at McGarrett. She put her hands on her hips and tried to make herself as tall as possible, but with her five foot and four inches, she didn't even come anywhere close to being physically intimidating. Her three inch heels couldn't do much about that either.

McGarrett gave her a perplexed look as if he had completely forgotten that she was there in the first place.

"You're not very good at this whole collaboration thing, are you?" Edith asked, raising an eyebrow at him and his puppy eyes. When McGarrett just continued to stare, she huffed. Was this guy seriously playing the concussion card _now_? "Okay," she said after a short pause. "Compromise, your people handle the crime scene and the body and get the footage and everything, but we do the researching and video watching at our office."

McGarrett smiled at her in a sarcastic, arrogant and fake kind of way. "Okay, sure," he said. "We'll meet you there."

Edith was a little taken aback by the quick concession. "Okay, good," she said hesitantly and offered him an honest smile.

McGarrett just nodded. He and Kelly said their goodbyes to the doctor and turned around to leave.

"Well, that went better than expected," Edith said, pleased with herself, as she watched the two walk towards the elevator.

Bixler let out a little snort and shook his head.

"What?" Edith snapped.

"You do realize that he was fucking with you, right?"

"What are you talking about?"

"They're not going to come to our office, Edie."

"What?" Edith stared blankly at her partner, then at McGarrett and Kelly. "That bastard!"

**-to be continued-**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Happy Easter to everyone who celebrates it! Thank you for reading and reviewing the last chapter! I hope you'll like this one . . . we finally find out where Danny really is :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

Kono and Grace arrived at headquarters a few minutes after Chin and Steve. Chin, who was working on the smart table in the main room, watched the two girls march straight to Steve's office. Kono dumped a brown bag on the desk in front of him and ordered, "Eat!" with a firm look. Steve opened his mouth to argue, but immediate admitted defeat when Grace stared at him expectantly.

Kono then set Grace up in Danny's office. They had picked up her backpack at Steve's place and so she spread out her schoolbooks all over her daddy's desk and started doing her homework. Chin kept watching her and soon realized that Grace had trouble concentrating on her work. Every few minutes her head shot up and she looked over to where Steve was sitting in his office, talking on the phone with the Governor (trying to get those two FBI agents off their backs) and eating his pancakes.

"You got anything from Palea?" Kono asked as she came walking over to the smart table, carrying two cups of fresh coffee.

Chin gladly accepted the cup she offered him. "He's dead," he simply said.

Kono just stared at her cousin. "What did McGarrett do to him?"

"Someone else got there first."

"Someone killed him?" Kono asked incredulously.

"That's what it looks like. Max is picking up the body at the hospital. We'll know for sure when he's done with the autopsy."

"Any idea who did it?"

Chin shook his head. "Steve thinks the person who sent these guys to his house looking for Danny's brother is behind this."

"You don't sound convinced."

"It's not that," Chin said and paused. Something about all this was bothering him. Something seemed off about the whole situation (aside from the obvious, of course), but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. "I just have a weird feeling about this."

Kono gave him a funny look. She opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off when Chin's phone started ringing. He checked the caller ID, which read HPD, and answered.

"Chin Ho Kelly."

"_It's Carter. We found the car you were looking for."_

"You did?" Chin said, a little surprised. Earlier, he and Kono had sent out a unit to McGarrett's house to canvas the area for a getaway car, assuming the three perps hadn't walked there last night. It was a long shot, but now turned out to be worth it.

"_Yeah, it's registered to the dead guy, Hoke, and on its way to the evidence garage for processing."_

"Good, thanks man," Chin said and hung up, knowing that Carter wasn't exactly eager to talk to him any longer than absolutely necessary.

"Let me guess," Kono said, "they found a car." She smiled and seemed to buzz with excitement. Chin knew her well enough to figure that all the sitting around at the hospital last night and their aimless search for Danny was frustrating her more than she let on.

"They did," he said and was about ready to let Steve know, when the glass double doors swung open, and agents Lake and Bixler walked in. She looked grouchy. He had just eyes for Kono and a big stupid grin on his face.

Both quickly made their way over to the smart table. "I don't appreciate being made a fool of," Lake snapped. Her cheeks flushed with anger and probably a good share of embarrassment, too.

Chin felt a bit helpless. This wasn't really his fault after all, so he just smiled apologetically. "I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding." It was a really bad attempt to salvage the situation and would probably only serve to offend her more, but it was the first thing that came to his mind.

"Yeah, sure," Lake said sarcastically. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked around, obviously searching for Steve. "Just tell me where he is?"

"This way," Chin said and motioned for Lake to follow him.

Bixler stayed behind, still ogling Kono. After a moment of awkward silence, Chin heard his cousin say, "I gotta . . . go," and she bolted to Danny's office to hide behind Grace.

* * *

><p>Edith marched to McGarrett's office and brushed past Kelly when he stopped to knock. No, McGarrett did not deserve the courtesy. She had a whole speech prepared for him that she may or may not have practiced on Bixler on their ride over here. She was going to make him understand that he could not pull a stunt like that with two respectable FBI agents like they were. She was going to teach him a lesson in respect and decency. She would be very clear and very firm and he would apologize to her and be a joy to work with from here on out.<p>

Even when she saw him sitting there, behind the desk, head buried in his hands, massaging his temples in slow circles and looking just a bit pathetic, she was still hell-bent on giving him a huge piece of her mind. However, when he looked up at her, revealing that huge red cut on his forehead and those eyes, those goddamn puppy eyes, the whole thing died on her lips and all the fight went right out of her.

After standing there like a complete idiot for a few seconds, she managed to clamp her mouth shut and to give him her best imitation of a really angry looking person. "We need to talk," she said eventually, a little proud of how serious she managed to sound.

McGarrett tiredly motioned for her to sit down on one of the comfortable looking armchairs.

"Thank you, but I'd rather stand."

He sighed and folded his hands in front of his mouth. "Listen, Agent Lake," he said after a short, thoughtful pause. "I'm sorry about that misunderstanding at the hospital."

"It's okay," Edith said far too quickly. She bit down on her bottom lip and took a semi-deep breath to compose herself and get back with the program. "I mean, it's not okay, but I would appreciate it if we could just move on and get to work. Get this over with."

"In that case," McGarrett said and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest, "I need you to tell me why you thought Matt Williams was hiding at my house."

"We have a wire tap on Detective Williams' phone," Edith said, frantically searching for a way to explain the situation without making herself look like an incompetent ass. "We may have . . . misinterpreted what was being said."

"Who else had access to the tapes?"

"Why?" Edith asked, feeling like she was missing something important.

"Because those three guys from last night had no reason to come looking for Matt Williams at my house."

The thought hadn't crossed Edith's mind yet, but she had to admit that he had a point. "Agent Bixler and I listened to the tapes. But technically, everyone working at the field office could have accessed them while we were" – snooping around your place – "out on assignment."

"Great," McGarrett said and tiredly ran a hand over his mouth.

"I need to talk to you about Danny Williams."

He raised his eyebrows at that and then frowned. "What about him?"

"Do you know where he is?"

McGarrett didn't miss a beat. "He's visiting his mother in New Jersey. She's sick."

Edith smiled. It wasn't that she had expected him to blush, but she had been sure there would at least be some subtle sign in his body language that betrayed the lie. McGarrett, however, just sat there, relaxed as ever, looking her straight in the eye. "Then why is there no record of him leaving the island?"

Ah, there it was. Just a hint of 'oh, shit' flickering up in his eyes and just for a fraction of a second, but it was definitely there. "No idea. Maybe you should check again."

"Look, I get that you're only trying to protect your partner, but you're not doing him – our yourself, for that matter – any favors by withholding information. So I'm going to ask you again, where is he?"

McGarrett looked at her for a moment, apparently weighing his options. "I don't know," he finally admitted and sighed heavily.

For some irrational reason, Edith believed him. Maybe it was because, all of a sudden, he looked so defeated and exhausted. She took another good look at him and realized that, until now, she had only considered McGarrett and his team to be an obstacle in her way to finding a criminal. She hadn't realized that these were people who were just worried about their friends and family.

"Okay," Edith said quietly and sat down on the armrest of one of the chairs, crossing her legs. "How about we divide and conquer? Agent Bixler and I will head back to our office and see if we can find out who else accessed those tapes and you stay here and check the surveillance tapes from the hospital."

McGarrett just looked at her, surprised and confused.

Edith shrugged. "I just think we'll be more effective this way and not . . . aggravate each other so much." When McGarrett just gave her a lopsided smile, Edith snorted, shaking her head. "Besides, I don't think I can stay here and watch you do _anything_. I mean, have you looked into a mirror lately? Or are you normally cross-eyed?"

McGarrett opened his mouth to say something, but Edith didn't let him. "I know, I know," she said, throwing up both hands, "you can't just sit here and do nothing while your partner is missing. I get it."

"Actually," McGarrett said and pushed himself up on his desk, wincing slightly, "I was just going to say thanks."

"Oh, don't thank me. It's just my self-preservation instincts kicking in." Edith underlined the statement with a punching gesture. "Just promise me that you'll call if you find anything." She smiled encouragingly, hoping she was making the right decision. Knowing McGarrett and his reputation, and seeing that hell-bent determination in his eyes whenever someone mentioned Danny Williams' name, Edith figured that there was nothing she could do to stop him anyway. Not if he had set that stubborn head of his on finding his partner. At least she wouldn't have to be around to witness the fallout.

* * *

><p>Steve watched Agent Lake leave his office and blew out a breath in relief. That had gone much better than he had expected, especially after the conversation with the Governor. To say that she had been pissed would be a colossal understatement.<p>

Jameson had somehow found out that it looked like Danny was involved in whatever was going on. So when Steve had called her earlier, she had already made the decision to pull Five-0 from the case entirely. After fifteen minutes of relentless and tiring negotiations, Steve had finally managed to convince her to let them stay on the investigation, as long as the FBI was okay with it. His head was killing him and, even though he had had more sleep than anyone else last night, he was tired and exhausted. But as long as Danny missing, he couldn't just sit around and do nothing.

Missing. Danny was missing now. Steve had only realized that when Agent Lake had said it. His eyes wandered over to his partner's office, where his little girl was sitting behind his desk, doing her homework or drawing. He just stood there for a moment, staring at her, panic creeping up inside him, because he had absolutely no clue what to do.

The knock on the glass door to his office made Steve jump a little. He turned around and found Chin sticking his head around the corner. "You okay?" he asked with a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah." Steve ran a hand over his face, trying to find his focus again. "What do you got?"

"HPD found a car belonging to one of the guys who visited you last night parked a few doors down from your house. Kono is heading over to the evidence garage to see if we can get a lead on whoever is behind the break-in."

"Good."

"You know, something about this has been bothering me," Chin said, leaning against the door frame. "Why did these guys even come looking for Danny's brother at your house?"

"I've been asking myself the same thing. It was probably a leak within the FBI."

Chin frowned. "You sure? Because these guys are low-level criminals. The kind that rob gas stations and steal cars. How did they get their hands on information leaked from the FBI?"

"I don't know." Steve shook his head and grabbed his phone off his desk. "I'm gonna try Danny again," he said and hit a couple of buttons to speed dial his partner.

"I've been calling him every thirty minutes," Chin said and for once, concern and worry were written all over his usually stoic face. "Either he doesn't want to pick up or . . . he can't."

Steve wanted to tell him to not even go there, but had to admit that Chin was right. His hands froze and his eyes searched out Grace again. He knew he had to find Danny. Just for her, he had to find him. But he had no idea how. Steve shook his head again. "What are we gonna do?"

Chin shrugged. "The FBI already have an APB out on him. All we can do right now is focus on finding out who sent these guys to your house. If we find that person, maybe then we can figure out what the hell is going on here. It's our best bet to find Danny."

"Yeah, you're right."

They both made their way back to the main room. Steve was just about to go and check on Grace, when suddenly, Agent Lake came back, barging in through the main entrance to the Five-0 headquarters.

"McGarrett," she called, almost running over to them. She held her phone tightly in her clenched fist. "I just got a call . . . we've found Detective Williams."

"Where is he?" Steve felt his entire body tense up. The look on Agent Lake's face was weird mix of flustered and 'you're not going to like what I'm about to tell you'.

She stopped a few feet in front of them, as if she was afraid to get any closer. Biting her bottom lip, she sucked in a deep breath through her nose. Steve was about ready to strangle the answer out of her. "He's at the FBI field office," she finally said, smiling nervously. "Apparently, he's been there since late last night."

"What?" Steve burst out when a whole tsunami worth of emotions came crashing down on him. Relief, anger, confusion, and then relief again were rushing through him, all at the same time, leaving him almost speechless.

He took a deep breath, partly to compose himself and partly to stop him himself from shooting that woman right there where she stood. "You're seriously telling me this _now_?"

Agent Lake held up both hands in front of her in a defensive gesture. "I didn't know, okay," she said, taking a step back. "I just got the call."

Steve could just stare at her, wondering if anyone working for the FBI was even marginally competent. "You had an APB out on him," he said through gritted teeth, trying hard to keep his voice down to not alarm Grace in the next room. "How can you not know that he's in your own goddamn building?"

"I don't know much, but apparently, Agent Kipton brought him in a little after midnight. According to the paper work, he arrested him for aiding and abetting a fugitive and for obstruction of justice."

"He arrested him?" God, Danny, what did you do? "What happened?"

"Look, I don't know." Agent Lake shrugged helplessly. "I have no idea what happened. I just got a call from a colleague telling me that Agent Kipton put Detective Williams in an interrogation room and then just left after a couple hours."

"He just left?"

"I don't know what's going on. I'm going over there right now and try to get Agent Kipton on the phone . . . I'll call you as soon as I know something."

"That's not gonna be necessary, I'm coming with you. I need to talk to Danny."

Steve started to leave but Lake stopped him by blocking his way. Well, at least she tried to. There was not really much she could actually do to stop him from leaving with her five feet and ninety pounds. However, Steve decided against walking directly through her. Instead, he put his hands on his hips and looked at her expectantly.

"I can't let you talk to him right now," Lake said, looking as if she felt honestly sorry about the entire situation. "I don't think that Agent Kipton –"

"Agent Kipton left Danny to rot in an interrogation room all night," Steve interrupted and took a step forward, invading Lake's personal space. "You're taking me to him right now."

Lake stared up at him, not showing the slightest inclination to move any time soon. She just pressed her lips together in a thin line and slowly shook her head.

"Look," Steve started, pressing both hands together in front of him and looking at her pleadingly, "I just want to find out what's going on and so do you. So, please, just let me talk to him."

"This is an ongoing investigation . . . and it's not even my case," Lake said, still standing her ground. However, the tone of her voice was soft and apologetic. "And it's certainly not yours. I can't make that decision."

"Well, it looks like the only person who _can_ make that decision has disappeared."

Steve could practically see the uncertainty and doubt flicker up in Lake's eyes. She blew out a deep breath and then looked him firmly in the eyes. "Okay, you can come with us," she finally said. "But I'm not making any promises. I will try calling Agent Kipton again first."

"Okay. Let's go." Steve turned around to where Chin was still standing by the smart table. "I don't have my car. Toss me your keys?" he asked, holding up both hands, ready to catch.

Chin smiled, shaking his head slightly. "You got a concussion. I'm not letting you drive my car," he said and quickly made his way over. "I'll drive you."

Steve didn't have the energy or the time to argue, so he just nodded. He and Chin, along with Agent Lake, were almost out the door when he heard a quiet voice behind him.

"Uncle Steve? Where are you all going?"

Grace. How could he forget about Grace?

Steve stopped dead in his tracks and quickly jogged back to where she was standing in the door to Danny's office, looking lost and even a bit scared. "Hey . . . uhm," he started and stopped, because he had no clue how to explain the situation to her. Or, if he even should explain anything at all before he knew exactly how deep the pool of shit was that Danny had gotten himself into. "How about a little trip?" he eventually asked with a happy but very fake smile.

Grace shrugged. "Okay," she said, obviously unsure what exactly to expect from the vague promise of 'a trip'.

"Steve?" Chin simply said from across the room, raising a questioning eyebrow at him.

He just shrugged and hoisted Grace up to settle her on his hips, ignoring the twinge in his side. After what she had been through last night, there was just no way he would leave her here with some stranger watching her.

"You good to go?" Steve asked. Grace just nodded emphatically.

Together they made their way back across the room to the doors. Chin first smiled at Grace and then shook his head at Steve. Agent Lake just stood there, staring at him with a confused look on her face. "What is she, some sort of mascot or something?" she asked, waving a hand at Grace.

Steve just ignored her and quickly started walking down the stairs.

"No, I mean it," Lake almost yelled, trying to catch up with him. "Why do you carry that child with you everywhere you go? Is this like some school project that's supposed to teach you responsibility?" Steve detected the slightly dallying tone of her voice but still wasn't sure if she was being serious or not.

* * *

><p>"Detective Williams?"<p>

The man sitting at the simple table in the center of the otherwise unfurnished room looked up with tired, red rimmed eyes when Edith stuck her head through the door. She offered him an apologetic smile and walked inside to sit down opposite to him with her back to the mirrored window.

"My name is Edith Lake, I work with Agent Kipton."

Williams leaned back in his chair and defiantly crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I already told him that I want to talk to my lawyer. That was . . . what, eight hours ago?"

Edith sucked in a deep breath through her nose and folded her hands on the table. "I'm really sorry that you had to wait all night."

"Oh, you're sorry?" Williams let out a sarcastic laugh and shook his head. "You're sorry, that's- that's great."

"Look, I understand that you're upset, but –"

"Upset? You think I'm upset? This is not me being upset. _Upset_ doesn't even begin to cover what I am right now." Williams voice droned in the confines of the small room. He leaned forward and stabbed an index finger at the table that separated him from Edith. "I want my lawyer. Or a phone call." He underlined each request with another bone-crushing stab. "Let me talk to the Governor, or my partner."

"He's waiting outside."

Williams froze and stared at her blankly, his finger still lingering on the table.

"I will let you talk to him but you have to talk to me first. Off the record."

Edith watched as Williams let his gaze wander around the room, seeking out the two cameras that were staring down from the ceiling at him. She knew they were turned off, and he probably figured as much when he saw that the red blinking lights were not blinking now. His jaw tensed and his eyes found her again. "What is this?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"I just need some answers," Edith said, spreading her hands wide in front of her. A gesture intended to show him that she wasn't a threat.

Williams shook his head and leaned back in his chair again. "I'm not gonna tell you where my brother is," he said with a shrug.

"Right now, I just want to know where Agent Kipton is."

"Why don't you try giving him a call?"

"He's not answering his phone, and you are one of the last people who saw him." Edith sighed. It was usually easier for her to deal with the people sitting on the other side of that table. This was what she was good at. Making people talk. She could do good cop and bad cop all on her own and at the same time when she needed to. Confuse them and throw them off balance until they didn't know any longer where they were. She had a way with the suspects, the bad guys. It was probably the only reason she had gotten this job in the first place. But Detective Danny Williams was not the average bad guy. Hell, he probably wasn't a bad guy at all. And that was very possibly the reason why she had to work so hard right now to just keep her focus and not simply start begging him to give her what she needed. "Do you know where Agent Kipton was going when he left last night?"

Williams just looked at her, weighing his options. "Kaleola Airport," he finally said and tiredly ran a hand over his mouth.

Edith frowned. Kaleola was the airport out of which Matt Williams had fled the island the last time he had been in Hawaii, so, "Why did he go _there_?"

"Because I told him that he would find Matt there. I told him he was running again."

Edith watched Danny Williams closely. He swallowed hard and shifted slightly in his chair. He was clearly uncomfortable. She crossed her arms in front of her, trying hard to keep a straight face. "Why?"

Williams didn't say anything. He didn't need to. The expression on his face said more than words ever could.

"Has it ever occurred to you, Detective, that maybe you don't need to protect your brother from us? We're not the enemy."

"It's not that simple," he said and sighed heavily.

"It never is," Edith agreed with a weak smile.

She got up and left the small room. Leaning back against the door, she closed her eyes and blew out a long breath. Something was just not right here. Kipton disappearing, looking for Matt Williams, alone, without backup, without even telling anyone where he was going . . . And now he wasn't even answering his phone anymore. That was more than just not right. That was downright shady.

She tiredly ran a hand through her hair and decided to focus on what little they knew and actually could do to find out what exactly this clusterfuck of a case was. The lines between the home invasion and the search for Matt Williams had been blurred from the start, but by now, everything had just morphed into one big complicated mess.

Edith pulled out her phone from her pants pocket to text Bixler where he should go looking for Kipton. Then she slowly made her way to the adjacent room where Steve McGarrett was waiting for her. She found him standing in front of the mirrored window, watching his partner intently.

"Guess it's your turn."

"This stays off the record." He gave her a stern look and left.

**-to be continued-**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** I'm sorry for not posting this yesterday... but I got a little distracted by the new episode. Anyway, this chapter will shed some light on what's really going on. I hope you won't be disappointed. Also, the story will pick up a bit after this chapter... things will actually start happening. Dun dun dun.

Thank you for sticking around and reading this! I really appreciate it. A lot. I hope you will enjoy this chapter!

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

It wasn't long after Agent Lake had left that the door to the interrogation room opened again. Danny couldn't tell how long exactly. It could have been a minute or fifteen. His sense of time had long gone out of the non-existent window and he didn't have his watch either. Upon his arrest, Kipton had taken it away from him, along with any other personal items. He'd even taken his tie.

A feeling of relief washed over Danny as Steve walked into the room. He knew he had some explaining to do, but for now, he was just happy to see a familiar face. Even if it was that particular face. Steve closed the door, leaned back against it, and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Guess I'm in trouble," Danny said after a moment, breaking the silence.

"Oh, ya think, Danny?" Steve threw up both hands and looked around the room. "What was your first clue?"

"Well, for one, you have aneurysm face," Danny answered matter of factly. It was only then that he noticed the cut on his partner's forehead and the purple discoloration of his skin along the left side of his jaw. Danny frowned, studying Steve more closely. "Speaking about your face, what the hell happened?"

"Oh, you mean this?" Steve asked, pointing at his head. "I had some late night visitors yesterday, courtesy of your brother."

"You . . . what?" Danny managed to sputter out, feeling like he just got hit by a truck. "Oh my God, is Grace –"

"Grace is fine, Danny. She's upstairs with Chin," Steve reassured him before he could even finish forming the horrible thought. Dropping his head in his hands, Danny sucked in a few deep breaths, trying to fill his lungs with the air the truck had knocked straight out of him, but his chest still felt oddly tight.

It took him a moment or two, but when he finally managed to regain some composure, he looked back up at Steve. To his surprise, his partner was just standing there, watching him, giving him the time he needed. "Does she know?"

Steve shook his head. "No, she still thinks you're visiting your mother." There was sympathy in his eyes, but the tone of his voice held an unspoken accusation.

"Look, Steve, I'm sorry I lied to you." He looked down at his hands and swallowed hard against the guilt constricting his throat.

"What's going on, Danny?"

"How much do you know?"

Running a hand through his hair, Steve walked over to the chair on the other side of the table and sat down. "I know that Matt is back on the island. I know that the FBI and some other people are looking for him. And I know that, somehow, they all seem to think he was hiding at my house." He just looked at Danny for a moment. "You could have told me," Steve simply added.

"I know. But-" he started, ready to explain that he wasn't about to drag Steve down with him. And down, way way down was exactly where he was right now. Sitting in an interrogation room while the D.A. was probably already impaneling the grand jury to have him indicted. There was no way he was not going down for this. For Matt.

"I get it," Steve said, cutting him off. "I have a sister who likes to get into trouble, too, if you remember."

"I'm sure Mary is trouble, but come on, but she doesn't even play in the same league as the one and only Matthew Williams. Hell, she doesn't even play the same sport."

"Oh, don't underestimate her."

"Come on, Steve. Mary is a rebellious teenager. Matt . . . Matt on the other hand is . . ." He trailed off, looking down again as the reality of the situation sunk in just a little bit deeper. "A criminal," he added after a pause, not looking back up at Steve. He just couldn't, too ashamed of his brother and what he'd done. Not just breaking the law – stealing money and running from the FBI. No, having his partner, his friend, risk his career for Matt, just because he was his brother was so much worse.

"You know, none of this is your fault."

Danny let out a humorless laugh, still not looking Steve in the eye. "The guy who put me in here seems to think otherwise."

"We'll figure this out," Steve said, with a confidence that only he had when it came to the consequences for bending and breaking the rules. With Steve, the only thing that mattered was what's right. Not according to the law, or anyone else's rules. It was about what was right in the grand scheme of things. It was about what was right _because_ it was right. There was no logic to it and at first, Danny had hated working with a partner whose actions were so unpredictable. He never knew when he would trample another suspect's civil rights because he felt that this time, the ends did justify the means. But – as much as Danny respected those rules that Steve liked to ignore – he had to admit that his partner got the results. The _right_ results.

"Starting with you telling me what's going on here."

Danny glanced up to the surveillance cameras again, checking whether the red blinky lights were still off. "You sure this is the right place for that conversation?"

"Everything is off the record."

"Alright." Danny sighed heavily. He didn't want this. Dragging Steve into this. The whole team. Because for all he knew, even with the FBI officially handling the case, they were going to do something stupid to get him out of the mess he had gotten himself into. But it wasn't like he had a choice anymore. And above that, they deserved some answers; the truth. "But first you gotta promise me something."

"What?"

Danny leaned forward in his chair and across the table, moving closer to Steve and he looked him straight in the eyes to make sure he understood how serious he was about this. "I don't want you to take any risks, okay. Not for Matt, and not for me. I did what I had to do. Because he's my brother. But you, and the rest of the team . . . It's not worth ruining your career over this. He's not worth it."

"Danny," Steve started to protest and Danny hated him for his blind loyalty.

"No," he cut him off. "You find him, you take him down." Danny stabbed a finger into the table to drive his point home. "No more second chances, no more trying to convince him to do the right thing." He looked his partner in the eyes for a long moment. Steve just stared back defiantly, his jaw set tight. "Promise me," Danny added.

Steve swallowed hard. "Alright," he finally said. "But I'm not gonna let you-"

"No, Steve," Danny cut him off once more. "I will face the consequences for what I did."

"What about Grace."

"She'll understand," Danny said, hoping to God it was true. He'd never forgive himself – or Matt – if he lost his little girl over this.

"I'm not going to take her to visit you in Halawa."

"No one's asking you to. Besides, I don't want her anywhere near that place."

"I'm probably gonna take her swimming a lot though. You should have seen her, she's a natural. Kind of hard to believe the two of you are actually related."

"I will have you know that I'm an excellent swimmer. I just don't see the point in doing it for fun."

"Well, she had a good time."

"Great. That's fantastic."

"Maybe I'm gonna take her spear-fishing for her birthday. I'm sure she'll enjoy that, too."

"Oh trust me, she won't. There no way in hell she's gonna go kill little Nemos with you."

"We'll see."

Danny was about to say 'no, we won't' when he finally realized what Steve was doing. Or rather trying to do, with his diminished people skills. "You really suck at this."

"At what?" he asked, shrugging innocently.

"Pep talks. But then I guess they don't teach you anything that involves actual talking at SEAL school. You guys probably just grunt encouragingly at each other."

Steve just grinned at that.

Danny rolled his eyes and smiled in spite of himself.

"Alright," he said after a moment. "Matt called me early yesterday morning. Said he needed to see me and that he was in big trouble. I was surprised that he was even back in the States. I told him that I didn't want t o hear any of it and that he should just turn himself in.

"He said that he would if he had a choice. I hung up on him but he kept calling. I was about ready to trace the call and bring him in myself but . . . then he said that if he didn't do what _they_ wanted, they would hurt Grace and Rachel. And me," he added, more as an afterthought, because he didn't care what happened to him, as long as Grace was safe.

"Who are _they_, Danny?" Steve asked urgently, his eyes wide with concern.

"He didn't want to say anything else over the phone so I left Grace with you and went to meet him," Danny continued, ignoring Steve's question. He was tired and exhausted and figured getting things out chronologically would be best to make sure he didn't leave anything out. "Turns out, he never delivered Fuentes' money as he was supposed to. He just kept it, thinking he could somehow get away with that and then pay back his clients with the money. I know, insane and stupid, but what else is new, right?" Frustrated, Danny blew out a long breath. "That was probably a lie, too. I guess it's more likely that he wanted to keep the money to himself."

"So Fuentes threatened to come after you and your family if Matt didn't get him the money back," Steve concluded.

"Not exactly," Danny said slowly, his brain still skipping over the part where Steve called Grace _and_ Rachel his family. They were closer again. Danny felt like he had a chance to make things right with Rachel, somehow. But not if he went to jail. No, Rachel deserved better than that . . . Just how much did he just lose by trying to help his little brother?

"What does that mean?" Steve asked, pulling him from his thoughts. "Hey, Danny, come on, focus," he added, thumping his hand on the table when he didn't get an immediate response.

"Pedro Fuentes is dead," Danny continued after clearing his throat awkwardly. "Turns out drug dealers are not the most understanding bunch. Who'd have thought, right?"

"Danny," Steve warned, aneurysm face making a repeat appearance.

"According to Matt, the guys who were supposed to get the money killed Pedro when he didn't deliver. Now his brother, Carlos, wants the money back. But I guess he'll want more than _just_ his money."

"Revenge for his brother."

"Yeah." Danny tiredly rubbed his eyes. All he'd been thinking about in the last hours he had spent in this dismal interrogation room was Matt. Hoping Fuentes hadn't gotten to him yet. Hoping he was still alive. Hoping, that was all he could do. "You know, he messed up bad but . . . he came back because Fuentes was threatening Grace, Rachel and me. That counts for something, right?" Danny looked up at Steve. He didn't know why, but he was looking for something in his partner's eyes. Confirmation that loving his brother and helping him – even in spite of everything he had done in the past – was right. Not by the law, but by whatever code Steve was living by.

"Counts for something," he agreed, his expression softening.

Feeling strangely relieved, Danny continued. "Matt had the money in a lock box at Honolulu International. I went to get it but as soon as I walked out of the airport, Kipton arrested me."

"You had the money on you when he arrested you?"

Danny winced a little when Steve reminded him of getting caught red-handed. "Not all of it," he admitted. "Ten mil in Franklins is a lot to carry," he added defensively.

"Roughly one hundred kilos," Steve confirmed with a nod.

"Of course you would know that."

"Kipton was alone when he arrested you?"

"Yeah."

"Did he go get the rest of the money?"

"No, but took the key to the locker from me. Why?"

Steve didn't answer. He just got up and walked over to the mirrored window, tapped against the glass and jerked his head, signaling someone to come inside the interrogation room. If it had been anyone but Steve, Danny was sure he would start panicking, thinking he just got played, manipulated into talking and giving up all the information he had on Matt.

A few seconds passed and Special Agent Edith Lake walked into the room. "Before you ask," she said with a tired sigh, "the money was never locked into evidence. Neither was a key to a lock box. All we have are Detective William's personal affects." She helplessly shook her head. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Kipton took the money and disappeared?" Danny jumped up from the hard chair, hands spread wide, and looked exasperatedly from Lake to Steve and back to her again. This could not be happening.

"We don't know that," Agent Lake shot back quickly, holding up a hand in front of herself, motioning for Danny to shut up. "We don't . . . know anything," she admitted slowly, talking more to herself than to anyone else in the room.

"That's great. Fantastic," Danny yelled, throwing both hands up and making a half turn to underline his frustration with the FBI's general incompetence. "You don't know anything, of course you don't." He let out a humorless laugh and shook his head disbelievingly.

"Your sarcasm isn't helping."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry I'm not-"

"Danny," Steve warned, shooting him a scolding look before he turned to Agent Lake. "Have you heard from your partner yet?"

"No," she answered curtly, crossing her arms in front of her chest defensively.

"Alright, we gotta go find Matt, bring him in, before Fuentes gets to him," Steve decided and Danny wanted to scream at him _No, no, no!_ because, damnit, this was not supposed to happen. Steve – the team – they were not supposed to get involved in this. Stay out of it, stay safe. Not take any more risks for Matt.

"I'll go. I'll bring him in," Danny said, looking at Steve intently, trying to make him understand why he needed to do this himself. Alone.

His stubborn idiot of a partner was about to open his mouth and protest, when Agent Lake cut him off before Steve could even get a word out. "Oh, you're not going anywhere. You're under arrest, remember?"

"The agent who arrested him has disappeared along with all the incriminating evidence," Steve said, putting his hands on his hips and staring down at her.

She just squinted her eyes, neither impressed by Steve's threatening demeanor, nor seeing his point. "We don't know that," she dismissed him snippily.

"Don't you ever listen, Steve? She doesn't know anything. Try to keep up, babe."

Both, Steve and Agent Lake turned to Danny and glared at him. He just gave and innocent shrug and muttered, "just saying," under his breath.

"You stay here," Lake said, pointing a finger at him, like he was a dog, "Commander, you and I will go and find the other Williams."

"Agent Lake-" Steve started to argue just when Danny opened his mouth to launch his own protest.

"Aht, aht, aht," Lake hissed, raising a warning index finger at each of them. "Not another word, from either of you." She looked back and forth between them, her jaw set tight with pent up frustration and annoyance. "Detective Williams, I don't think that I need to explain to you that, frankly, you're in deep shit here. Really, really deep shit. So, for your own protection, it's best if you stay here and just sit this thing out." She sighed and looked at him with oddly sympathetic eyes. "You got your little girl upstairs, think about her. Call your lawyer, talk to him about your options. We'll find your brother."

"She's right, Danny," Steve said and just looked at him, all determined and ready to fix this whole mess for him and for Grace, and Danny wanted to tell him _No, no, no_ again. Because the bruises and cuts on his partner's face were evidence enough that everything relating to Matt Williams was a fucking mine field and all he had ever wanted was to keep everyone out of it, safe. But apparently it was way too late for that. He was stuck in this dismal interrogation room. And Matty's time was running out.

With a heavy sigh, Danny plopped back down on the chair, accepting defeated. "Just . . . be careful."

"Don't worry, Danny, we'll find Matt."

Yeah right, because he was talking about his brother and not his idiot partner who was about to go out there and deal with Fuentes and all the other trouble Hurricane Matt's got whirling around him. Simply shaking his head, Danny gave Steve the name of the motel and the number of the room Matt was staying in.

And then he was alone again.

* * *

><p>Edith closed the door to the interrogation room behind herself and blew out a breath. Dealing with these two and all their manly feelings for each other was exhausting. Both wanting to protect the other and both self-sacrificing and stubborn enough to not realize that they were heading into completely different directions.<p>

Different directions. _Wrong_ directions. That seemed to be the motto, because letting McGarrett practically take over the Matt Williams case was definitely not the right direction. Or at least not the direction the Assistant Director had had in mind. But that was a problem she could deal with later.

"He was not talking about his brother, you know," she said, her face still to the door. "When he told you to be careful."

But no response came. Edith turned around, only to see that McGarrett was already halfway down the corridor. "Hey, hold up," she called and hurried to catch up with him, cursing the man's laser focus and gung-ho attitude.

McGarrett only slowed down when he reached the elevator and slammed a hand against the call button, staring blankly ahead at his own reflection in the matted shiny silver doors.

Edith stopped next to him and huffed, only slightly out of breath from the ten-yard sprint.

"You know, technically, I can't let you do this," she said, looking up at McGarrett's stony face and – goddamnit, that tightly set jaw-line was looking all kinds of attractive from this angle. Edith swallowed and turned her focus back to her own blurry reflection. McGarrett remained silent.

"I mean, we had a deal. You were supposed to stay away from the Matt Williams case."

The elevator dinged softly and McGarrett was inside the cabin before the doors had even fully slid open. He forcefully punched the button that would take the cab to the ground floor and just kept ignoring Edith. She followed him, not sure whether or not she wanted to be locked inside a metal box with this guy right now. The silence made her a little uneasy so she started rocking on her feet.

"But, you know, with Agent Kipton's . . . questionable actions" – that was one way to put it – "throughout this investigation . . . and considering the fact that we probably wouldn't even have a location on Williams without your . . . erm, help—" Edith scrunched up her face and risked another look up at McGarrett, whose expression remained stony. "I mean, you know Matt Williams, right? And he knows you so . . . probably not the worst idea to bring a familiar face, cause, he's probably on edge, with Fuentes and everything . . ."

_Ding._

The elevator doors slid open again and McGarrett stepped right out of the cab. Edith just watched him walk away for a moment and blew out another breath. "Good chat," she remarked and then wearily followed him, wishing Bixler was there. Maybe he would have stopped her from talking herself into being okay with defying direct orders from the Governor and – even worse – the Assistant Director of the FBI. Yup, she was so fired for letting McGarrett handle the Matt Williams thing right now. But what was she supposed to do? She had witnessed enough of McGarrett's stubbornness to know that there was no way stopping this guy. At least not when you were half as tall and only barely capable of handling a weapon.

Letting her head hang lowly, Edith caught up with McGarrett, who was talking to Kelly by now, keeping his voice low so that the little girl couldn't hear them. Edith offered her a quick smile and then cleared her throat, trying to get the guys' attention.

"Agent Lake," Kelly said, nodding his head slightly, greeting her and offering a polite yet somewhat uneasy smile.

Edith responded with a tight smile herself and then turned her attention back to McGarrett. "So," she said, trying to make her face smile a little bit longer in a probably futile attempt to soften the guy up a little (not that her smiling at men usually had that effect, but you can't blame a girl for trying, right?), "I can have a tactical unit ready to roll in about twenty minutes."

"Good for you," McGarrett said, his face twitching with a weird half-smile.

"You're not gonna wait twenty minutes, are you?" Of course not, why would he?

"Did Kono get anything?" McGarrett was back to ignoring her, speaking to Kelly again.

He cautiously looked over to Edith, as if he didn't want to say anything in front of her, but then started talking anyway. "They found a cell phone in the car. Last three incoming calls came from Agent Kipton's number. But that's not all. We got the surveillance footage from the hospital. Guess who paid a visit to Palea minutes before he died?"

"Kipton."

"But why?" Edith asked no one in particular, not ready to just accept that the man she had been working with for the past months was somehow implicated in . . . whatever it was that was going on here. "Why would he send those guys to your house?"

"It was a distraction," McGarrett said, his voice impatient but Edith didn't care. She just needed to understand what was happening. "For you, for us . . . he was trying to keep everyone busy so that he could get to Matt Williams first. Alone."

"Why?" She knew why. Deep down, she knew. But she needed someone to spell it out for her, to tell her that her boss was not who she had thought he was. Someone needed to tell her that the man was dirty, to assure her that this was not just her imagination running away with her.

"Because he's probably working for Fuentes."

Edith just stared at McGarrett.

"Look, I know this is not easy, but we gotta get moving. Maybe you should stay here."

"No," Edith said before her brain even registered that she was talking. "No, I'm coming with you."

"Okay, let's go," McGarrett said with a 'whatever' attitude and was already on his way outside the building.

"Wait," Edith called after him, making him stop and turn around. "What about her?" she asked, motioning towards the little girl who was already out of her seat, ready to follow McGarrett wherever he went.

McGarrett looked from the little girl up to Kelly. "Chin, can stay with her? Take her back to HQ?"

"I'm not letting you go without backup, brah," he said, his voice amazingly calm but brooking no room for argument.

"It's okay," McGarrett argued nonetheless. "I got her," he said, jerking his head in Edith's direction. "And call Kono, have her meet us there."

"What if Kono doesn't get there in time? What if you run into Fuentes and his people?" Kelly's voice was still totally even and collected and Edith was glad someone on that team operated with common sense. If it was her call, she'd wait for SWAT and enough backup to take down a small village before she went anywhere near that motel.

"Chin we have no time, I—"

"Alright," Edith interrupted, "compromise." She quickly crossed the distance between her and McGarrett, making sure she was out of the little girl's earshot before she continued in a low voice. "How about I have Detective Williams brought up to a nicer room and have the girl stay with him. I'm sure they'll both be glad to see each other." When McGarrett just squinted suspiciously at her, Edith sighed, rolling her eyes. "I'm on your side, Commander. I'm just trying to help."

"Alright," McGarrett said after a moment.

Edith made a call, had Williams brought up to one of the conference rooms on the first floor and, in the meantime, grabbed her tac vest and a more comfortable pair of shoes from her broom closet-sized office.

She met up with McGarrett and Kelly in the corridor in front of the room in which Williams was waiting. An agent was standing in front of the door, making sure the Detective didn't try to make a break for it. He was still under arrest, even though with Kipton and the money gone, the D.A. would probably not even take the case to a grand jury. But people higher up the pay-roll would have to make that decision. All Edith could do now was damage control. McGarrett control.

McGarrett crouched down beside the little girl, not letting go of her small hand. She looked at him with big, curious eyes, obviously a little overwhelmed by everything that was happening around her. Edith was amazed by how well the tough little cookie was holding it together, especially since she herself was only hanging on by a thread.

"Alright Gracie," McGarrett said, his voice unusually soft. "Uncle Chin and I have got to go, catch some bad guys and we can't take you with us."

Despite the unwavering confidence and trustworthiness of his voice, the little girl's eyes widened in fear of being left alone, with strangers in a strange place. But she didn't say a word, didn't protest, trying to be brave and strong.

"Hey, don't worry," he said, a rare, gentle smile crossing his lips. "We managed to find someone really special to stay with you." He winked at her and then looked up at Edith, asking her with a short nod of his head to open the door to the conference room.

She bit down on the insides of her lips, trying to stop a smile from spreading on her face. Because, no, she was a very tough federal agent and this little exchange between McGarrett and the little girl didn't just make her feel all fuzzy inside. She pushed the door open and watch Grace curiously peek around the corner.

"Danno!" she exclaimed and broke away from McGarrett, running towards her father and crashing into his wide-spread open arms.

"Monkey," he said, kissing the little girl's head and hugging her close.

Out of the corner of her eye, Edith saw McGarrett slowly get up and watch the two with such love in his eyes, it seemed completely out of character for him. As far as she knew the man, anyway. With a sigh, Edith glanced over to Kelly, who discretely observed everything with a knowing look in his eyes. What an odd little group these people were.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** I really can't thank you all enough for reading and reviewing! I'm so happy you're enjoying the story so far :D

I hope you will enjoy this chapter too. It will kind of maybe give a hint at where this story is going...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

It was a fifteen-minute drive to the motel. Steve got them there in eleven.

"Kono's two minutes out," Chin said from the passenger seat as Steve pulled up in front of the shabby looking building, and scanned the area carefully. He had kept his eyes open the entire way, but no one seemed to have followed them and there was no suspicious activity around the motel.

Maybe a good sign. Maybe not.

Maybe they were too late.

"Alright, call her back, tell her to wait outside when she gets here. We need someone to keep an eye out for Fuentes' people." Steve got out of the car, a hand going automatically to his gun, subconsciously confirming it was there, before he readjusted the straps of his tac-vest. Without being too obvious about it, he carefully watched as Agent Lake did the same, making sure she was good to do this, prepared. He didn't need to check back with Chin. He trusted his team to be able to handle themselves in the field. It was different strangers. He felt responsible for her, for her safety. Even though, technically, he was probably rather her responsibility than vice versa.

"Chin, you go round back, in case he runs."

Chin confirmed the order with a nod and started jogging away from them while dialing Kono on his cell.

"Lake, you're with me." This way, he could keep an eye on her and make sure she was safe. Make sure she didn't do anything stupid.

They quickly made their way up the outdoor stairwell and along the narrow balcony until they reached the door with the number sixteen on it. Not knowing what they were going to find behind it, Steve unholstered his Sig and waited for Lake to do the same.

"_I'm in position,"_ Chin's voice crackled over the com-link in Steve's ear.

"_Me too, everything's quite down here."_

Steve looked down to the parking lot and spotted Kono next to her red car, scanning the area for any signs of trouble.

"Alright, let's move in."

Lake nodded and positioned herself next to the door. Steve stood in front of it and knocked twice. "Matt, it's Steve McGarrett, Danny's partner. Open the door."

Nothing.

"Matt, you in there?" He rapped on the door a few more times.

Still, there was nothing. No answer, no movement. Just silence.

Bad sign.

Steve took a step back, confirmed with Lake that she, too, was ready to bust in there, and then kicked down the door, mentally preparing himself for whatever they would find behind it.

He quickly stepped inside, gun first, scanning the small, scarcely furnished room thoroughly and effectively. But it was just empty. He waited for Lake's _"clear"_ as she checked the tiny bathroom, before he lowered and holstered his gun again.

"He's not here," Lake stated unnecessarily as she walked back into the main room.

Steve cupped his chin in one hand while he let his gaze once again wander over the room. Everything looked to be in order, no signs of a struggle or anything else that would suggest Matt Williams had left against his will. The bed wasn't made though, so housekeeping hadn't been through here yet.

"Looks like he checked out," Lake said, gesturing towards the open, yet empty closet at the far end of the room. "All his stuff is gone. No clothes, no nothing."

"Kono, get up here. Chin, check in with the front desk, ask the manager whether Matt's checked out," Steve said into his com-link.

"You think he's running? Again?"

Steve didn't answer Lake's question, he just kept looking around the small room, trying to find something that suggested otherwise – even though he wasn't sure that finding evidence that Matt had left against his will was what he wanted. Because if he did, it meant that Fuentes had gotten there first. And that Matt's chances to get out of this alive where shrinking by the second.

But what if Matt had decided to run again? What would_ that_ do to Danny? And what would Fuentes do to him, his family, Grace, if he didn't get his hands on Matt?

Either way, the situation was fucked up.

"Hey," Kono's voice startled Steve out of his thoughts. "What do you need, boss?"

"Get a crime scene unit in here, have them process the entire room." His eyes were still scanning the surroundings, still looking for something. A clue.

"What are we looking for?"

"Any signs of a struggle. I need to know if Danny's brother left voluntarily or if he was taken." He looked up at Kono, who nodded with a determination in her eyes that told Steve that she understood they needed this fast. Before he had to tell Danny.

"You got it," she said, already dialing her cell.

"_Steve,"_ Chin's voice sounded over the com-link in his ear again.

"Go ahead, Chin. What do you got?"

"_According to the manager, Matt checked out about half an hour ago."_

"Shit," Steve muttered under his breath and ran a hand over his face. "Ask him if there was anyone with him when he checked out . . . if he noticed something suspicious."

"_Already did. He said Matt seemed like he was in a rush but there was no one else there. No one picking him up or anything. Didn't even want the manager to call him a cab."_

"So we got nothing."

"_There something else. Matt left a note for Danny."_

"What's it say?"

"_Just 'I'm sorry'."_

* * *

><p>With a polite smile in what's-her-name-again's direction, Edith walked out of the small and stuffy room, out to the balcony where she took a deep breath of fresh air. She watched McGarrett walk down the stairs towards the front desk to meet with Kelly, and pulled out her cell from her pants pocket. Seven missed calls and a text, all from Bixler. She quickly scanned the message – he didn't find Kipton – and then hit speed dial number one.<p>

"_Yeah?"_

"Hey, Bix, you called?" A lot.

"_Edie, where the hell are you?" _her partner burst out when he realized who was calling.

"Calm down. We got a lead on Williams but it didn't pan out. We're at some motel in Pearl City. Williams had already checked out when we got here." She sighed and leaned forward, propping her elbows up on the railing and letting her gaze wander over the parking lot below her. "Looks like he's gone."

"_Well, so is his brother."_

"What?" Edith stood up straight again. "Where are you?"

"_At the field office. I only got here a couple of minutes ago."_

"And Detective Williams is not there anymore? What about his daughter." Edith couldn't help but look down to the reception where McGarrett and Kelly were talking, feeling like the guy with his super powers would somehow be able to sense that something was wrong.

"_What about his daughter?"_

"Jesus, Bix. Is _she_ still there?"

"_You left her here?"_

So not the point right now. "Conrad!"

"_She's not here."_

Oh no. No, no, no. This was so not happening. "Shit. Where did they go?"

"_I'm trying to find that out right n- Oh, crap."_

"What?"

"_Kipton. He took 'em."_

"What? How? How do you know?"

"_I'm looking at the surveillance footage right now. He just walked right out of the front door with them. He's hiding it pretty well, but I think he's got a gun on the little girl."_

"What? What about the agent guarding the door?"

"_The footage has no audio, but it looks like Kipton talked to him for a few and then the guy just left. Edie, please tell me you flagged Kipton's ID before you left."_

Oh. Fuck.

"_Edie, did you at least tell Section Chief Hayes about this?"_

"I-" was all Edith managed to choke out. She gripped the railing with her free hand tightly and tried hard to force some air into her lungs. Because, fuck, this was her fault. She _should have_ flagged Kipton's ID, she _should have_ told the Section Chief about what was going on. Make sure Kipton couldn't just walk into the field office as if nothing was wrong, flash his ID, have some small talk with the junior agents and then just walk Danny Williams and his daughter out of the building. But she hadn't. Because she still couldn't quite wrap her head a round this whole mess. Because she still didn't want to believe that her boss was working for Fuentes.

"_Edie!"_

She slowly blew out a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "I- I was hoping you'd find him and- and that we could sort this whole fucking mess out . . . I thought that maybe this was all just a misunderstanding . . . I-"

"_Damnit, Edie."_

"I messed up, I get, okay," Edith snapped, her heart still pounding furiously in her chest. She sucked in another deep breath, desperately needing to calm down. Fix this. Make it right again. "Okay," she shakily breathed out after a moment, her hand still tightly clenched around the railing. "How long ago did this happen?"

"_About fifteen minutes, according to the timestamp on the footage."_

"Is there any way we can track Kipton?"

"_His cell is still dead. And I doubt he took one of our cars."_

Shit. Edith glanced over the where McGarrett and Kelly were still talking. What the hell was she supposed to tell them? She wanted to fix this before they even heard about what happened. Because McGarrett would sure as hell rip her head right off for this.

Not that she didn't deserve it.

"_Edie?"_ Bixler urged.

"Just . . . give me a minute." Edith looked around, frantically, as if Kipton, Williams, and his kid would just pop up right in front of her if she only looked hard enough.

Kipton took Detective Williams. Detective Williams, who he himself arrested last night. Whose personal affects were still in lock up, including his cell phone, so tracking that wouldn't give them squad. And the girl . . . Maybe if she was McGarrett's daughter she'd have a subdermal tracker implanted or something. But Williams . . . Edith didn't have him pegged as too overly protective, but then she didn't really know the guy at all. And with a girl that age these days . . . They were all over the place. Facebook and all that crap. Some kids had cell phones before they could even talk and- Cell phone. "Hold on, Bix."

Edith quickly jogged down the stairs to meet McGarrett and Kelly in front of the motel manager's office.

"McGarrett!" she called, inappropriately out of breath considering the short distance of the sprint.

"What?"

"Does Grace Williams have a cell phone?"

"Why?" McGarrett asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously as his spider senses went off.

"Just answer the question."

"Yeah, she does. What's going on?"

"What's the number?"

"555-0136."

Edith brought her phone back up to her ear. "You got that, Bix?"

"_Got it, I'll let you know as soon as I got something."_ The line clicked dead and Edith suddenly felt very much alone (and scared), looking into the grim, questioning face of Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett. She swallowed hard, but didn't say anything. There was that teeny tiny little chance that McGarrett didn't really want to know why she just asked for Grace Williams' cell number like her life depended on it.

"What's going on?"

Okay then, not Edith's lucky day. With a resigned sigh, she decided that it was probably best to just get it all out as quickly and – hopefully – painlessly as possible. Like ripping off a band-aid. Or – considering that huge, pulsating vein on McGarrett's neck – like ripping off that wax strip from the bikini zone. "Kipton took Detective Williams and his daughter. Bixler is trying to track her cell right now."

McGarrett just looked at her blankly for a moment, then turned around and ran a hand through his hair. "No, no, no," he muttered, coming back around to face her again.

"Commander-"

"How could he just walk in there and take them, huh?" His face was red with anger and dangerously close to Edith's now. "Why didn't anyone stop him?"

"I-" Edith started, not sure what she was supposed to tell him. But then, McGarrett didn't really give her a chance to talk, so it kind of didn't matter.

"Why wasn't Kipton arrested as soon as he walked into that building?" he shouted, still stepping closer to Edith, making her stumble backwards a little. "Don't tell me you-"

"Boss, what's going on?"

McGarrett took a step back and looked at the girl of his team coming quickly towards them. "Kipton took Danny and Grace," he informed her with a sigh, running a hand over his face.

"What? Why?"

Good friggin' question, honey.

"That's a good question, Kono," McGarrett echoed Edith's thoughts.

"Alright, let's all calm down, recap this thing," Kelly said with a sense of calmness and collectiveness he couldn't possibly be feeling right now. "Fuentes' brother wants two things, right? His money back, and Matt."

"Yeah, and we can't give him either," Kono interjected. She was frustrated, bouncing on her heels, obviously itching to do something.

"One thing after the other," Kelly said, giving her a look. "He's got Kipton working for him and probably got the money from him by now."

"Probably," McGarrett agreed and – if the circumstances were any different – Edith would have sworn he had only said it to prove a point to her. But she doubted that he had the emotional capacity to mock her right now. He still looked angry and he had every right to be furious with her. But he also looked scared. For his partner and the little girl. He looked so fucking scared it made Edith tremble inside.

"So all he wants now is Matt," Kelly added.

"Shit, they planned this." McGarrett turned away from the group and walked a few steps, punched a wall – hard – and then came back, eyes wild, jaw set so tightly Edith was afraid he'd break it. "He's fucking using us."

With bouncing eyebrows, Kelly just looked at McGarrett ominously knowingly.

"I- I don't follow," Edith admitted, looking confused around the three quarters of Five-0 who still seemed to be busy communicating via looks and eyebrow-movements.

With a sigh, McGarrett turned to her. "Kipton didn't get a location on Matt from Danny. He probably figured that Danny would only give up that info to someone he trusted. So he waited for us to grab Matt, and while we were gone, he grabbed Danny."

"He wants to set up an exchange, Detective Williams for his brother," Edith finished the train of thought, nodding absently as everything fell into place for her. Almost everything. "But Kipton is FBI. He knows we won't make a deal like that."

"Guess he thought it was worth a shot," McGarrett snapped, staring blankly ahead, his mind probably going a mile a minute, trying to figure out how to fix this whole mess. "Not that it matters. We don't have who he wants anyway."

* * *

><p>As if on cue, Steve felt his phone vibrate in his pants pocket, seconds before it started ringing. Caller ID was blocked. Great, this was the call. Already. They sure didn't waste any time.<p>

"McGarrett," he answered, swallowing hard.

"_You have one hour to bring Matthew Williams to the abandoned SGB construction site. If you don't, his brother and the little girl are dead."_ Heavy Mexican accent. This wasn't Kipton calling. It was probably Carlos Fuentes himself.

"Who is this?" Feigning ignorance was always a good way to stall and buy some time. And he needed time to come up with a plan.

"_Lake makes the drop. She comes alone, if I see anyone else, people will die."_ Fuentes definitely meant business. He sounded determined, confident. He probably had experience with situations like this. Not good. This wasn't Steve's first hostage situation either. But with Danny and Grace involved, things were just . . . different. He needed to focus. Treat this like any other kidnapping, follow the protocols, do what experience taught him was the right thing to do and not get distracted by his feelings for the victims.

God, calling them victims sounded so, so wrong.

"You know I can't give you what you want," he said, trying to remain calm, trying not to scream bloody murder at the man who was threatening to kill two of the people who were most important to him in the world. "The US government doesn't negotiate with terrorists." Standard. Protocol. Hopefully not the words that got Danny and Grace murdered.

"_This is not a negotiation, Commander. One hour, starting fifteen seconds ago."_

"We need more time." Because Matt Williams could be well on his way to anywhere in the freaking world right now. They needed more time. But he also needed Danny and Grace to be safe right this second.

"_This is still not a negotiation."_

"Look, if you want him, you'll have to give us more time." Shit, he was losing it. Fast. He'd almost just told the guy that they didn't have Matt. And if he knew that a trade was not gonna happen then Danny and Grace would become expendable.

"_Fifty-nine minutes and twenty-three seconds, Commander. Detective Williams dies first. While his little girl watches."_

"You son of a bitch, if you hurt either of them, I swear, I'm gonna come after you and-" The line clicked dead. "Shit."

"What's going on?" Kono looked at him with a determination in her eyes Steve knew she wasn't feeling. The way her lips were twitching was a dead giveaway of how things were looking behind that tough front she always put on.

"Fuentes has Danny and Grace. He wants Matt in an hour."

"What are we gonna do?" Kono asked and Steve almost flinched at the tone of her voice. There was so much confidence in her words. So much faith that he would have the answer. That he would just come up with a solution to fix everything.

But his mind was just . . . blank.

"Lake," Steve said, looking away from Kono and to the FBI agent, no longer able to look into those huge expectant eyes and not quite ready to disappoint the rookie's eternal trust in him. "You still got that BOLO out on Matt?"

"Yeah, sure," Lake said, eyes narrowing in confusion.

"Alright, good. Authorities will pick him up if he tries to fly out commercially." He wouldn't try. "Chin, send units out to all air fields, marinas, the works."

"Shutting down the island," Chin confirmed, pulling out his cell.

"Trace the last incoming call to my cell, too. ID was blocked, I know it's a long shot but . . ." he trailed off. It was all they had to go on right now.

"You got it."

"I just got a text from Bix," Edith said, eyes still fixed on her cell phone. "Looks like Grace Williams' phone is still at your offices." She looked up and bit down her bottom lip. "Sorry."

"Great." Steve squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to think. "We need to find Matt," he muttered while running a hand across the back of his neck.

"Even if we had Matt Williams, there's no way we could just hand him over to Fuentes," Lake said. Unnecessarily. Because there was no one here who didn't already know that.

"Then what are we gonna do?" Steve asked and took a step towards her, stepping into her personal space again, trying to intimidate her, make her shut up. They didn't need anyone pointing out to them how they were fucked seven ways from Sunday right now. They were all very painfully aware of that.

"We can't just do nothing." Kono, all that hope now drained from her voice. Steve didn't dare look her in the eyes.

"Where's the exchange supposed to go down?" Lake asked, straightening her back and putting her hands on her hips, signaling him loud and clear that she wasn't quite that easy to shut up.

"The abandoned SGB construction site."

"Shit, that's like a huge open pit with nothing around it. It's an impossible spot to set up a trap," Kono said, blowing out a frustrated breath and stomping her foot into the ground.

"I know," Steve said, his voice sounding defeated to his own ears.

"He'd see a trap from miles away."

Steve just nodded. "It's too dangerous anyway, with Grace in the middle of all this."

"So what are we gonna do?" Would Kono ever stop asking him that question?

"I don't know," Steve admitted, running a hand over his face again.

"Why does he want Matt anyway?" Kono asked, bouncing on her feet again, needing, itching to act. She was having a hard time playing defense. Hell, they all were, but the rookie wasn't as good as hiding that wild need to do something just as well as he and Chin had learned to over time. "He got his money back, why go through all this trouble?"

"Revenge for his brother's death," Lake said with a sigh. "Pedro got taken out for the money Matt took. Mexican drug cartels tend to take disappearing money very personal."

"So I guess offering this guy more money won't help," Kono said, frustrated chewing her bottom lip.

For a moment, Steve just stared at her, somewhat in awe. Here he was – the boss, the one in charge – going in circles over the level of how fucked up they were right now. And there she was, the rookie, the one least expected to do anything in this situation, trying to come up with a plan. Even if she wasn't getting anywhere. At least _she_ was trying.

Think, McGarrett, think.

"No," Lake said, shaking her head. "This is personal, he won't-"

"Wait," Steve said without thinking about it, as a thought flashed through his head. Just a thought, not an idea, definitely not a plan, but a thought that seemed really important for some reason. Three pairs of eyes looked at him expectantly. "This is Fuentes' brother, right?"

"Yeah, Carlos," Lake confirmed. "Why?"

"Was he there when Matt met with Pedro?"

"No, according to our intel, Carlos only came to Hawaii when Pedro was murdered," Lake said, looking at him suspiciously. "He's been running the _family business_ all the way up and down the west coast on the mainland before that. Why?"

"So, it's likely that he doesn't know what Matt looks like, right?" And if he didn't know what he looked like, then maybe they didn't need Matt at all. They could send in someone else. An idea.

"We don't know that." It was so like Agent Lake. She really did love her facts.

"But there's a chance," Steve argued, giving her a look.

"Where exactly are you going with this?" Kono asked, sounding much more intrigued by the idea than Lake. God bless her, always up for anything. The more dangerous, the better.

"If Carlos doesn't know what Matt looks like then we can just send in someone else."

"Oh let me guess, you're volunteering for the job?" Lake said, almost with a frustrated groan, and Steve wondered why she knew him so well.

"That's crazy, boss," Kono somewhat agreed, even though there was still that hint of excitement in her eyes.

"Fuentes is definitely gonna have some way of making sure we're giving him the right guy," Chin tried to reason, his voice even and calm as ever.

"Maybe. Probably. But it's all I got right now. Look, we're running out of time here. If anyone's got a better idea, I'm all ears." He looked around, three pairs of clueless eyes staring back at him. Nope, no better ideas. Shit. He was really hoping that someone would come up with something less . . . suicidal.

"Okay, let's assume for a crazy second that this is gonna work," Lake said, gesturing wildly with her hands in front of herself. "How are we gonna get you out?"

Oh hell, I didn't realize you cared. "You guys just make sure that Danny and Grace are safe. I'll find a way out," Steve said, his voice carrying much more conviction that he actually felt. He looked around to the two remaining members of his team, trying to assure them that he was gonna be fine. Trying to make sure they both knew what their priorities were.

"Boss-" Kono tried to argue, but was cut off by Lake.

"And what exactly is the point of exchanging one hostage for another? Especially considering the risk your plan involves?"

Steve felt his blood pressure go up. Once again, he stepped right in front of Lake, invading her personal space to press his point home (not that it had ever worked before, but if at first you don't succeed . . .).

"The point is to make sure that Grace is safe," he said slowly, his voice dangerously low, emphasizing every single word, making sure the message was received loud and clear. "Something she isn't right now because of you. Because you messed up. And if Fuentes hadn't requested that you're the one making the exchange, then you wouldn't even be here right now."

Lake opened her mouth to say something but Steve didn't give her the chance to interrupt.

"So I suggest you just keep your mouth shut from now on. You've done enough damage for one day."

He turned around and started walking towards Chin's car. "Let's move!"

**-to be continued-**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Thank you thank you thank you for your reviews! And for reading of course! I'm really excited that some of you seem to like Edith and some seem to really hate her... idk why but it makes me happy to get different reactions to her... existence.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

It was dark.

Not all-consuming black hole blackness kind of dark, but really fucking dark nonetheless. All Danny could make out were vague shapes. But then there wasn't really much to see anyway. He and Grace – who was curled up in his lap, the side of her face pressing against his chest – were still in the van that had waited for them outside the FBI field office.

The ride had been long, maybe thirty minutes, maybe forty-five. Maybe even longer. Danny couldn't tell, his stupid watch was still sitting somewhere in the evidence lock up of the FB-fucking-I.

The car had stopped moving a while ago. No one had bothered to check up on them, let alone tell them what was going on. It was hot, the air was stuffy and stale and Danny's shirt stuck uncomfortably to his skin due to a mixture of sweat and Gracie's tears.

He looked down to his little girl in his lap. She was quiet, sobbing silently, and Danny could tell she was only trying to be brave. For him.

"It's gonna be okay, Monkey," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. "Everything is gonna be fine."

Danny had stopped counting how many times he had told her the same thing over and over again now, praying silently that he wasn't lying.

Grace only hiccuped in response and Danny gave her a tight squeeze. Her silence probably didn't mean anything. She was scared, exhausted and he kept repeating himself. But still, the lack of a proper, positive response did something to him. It was almost like she knew his words were empty promises. Maybe she was getting too old to just take what her daddy said at face value. Maybe the days of hero worship at the altar of Danny Williams were over for Grace. He knew that this day was going to come sooner or later – it was part of growing up. But did that day really have to be today?

Speaking of hero worship. "Hey, I'm sure your Uncle Steve will find us any minute now."

Grace sniffed a few times but didn't say anything.

Come on.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, bending his head down to the side, searching out her eyes in the darkness. "Don't you think he's gonna find us?"

He only felt her little shoulders give a slight shrug.

"Hey?" he asked again, giving her a soft nudge. "Don't you think Uncle Steve is gonna come find us?"

"I don't want him to get hurt again," she finally said in a tiny voice, sniffling.

"What was that?" Danny asked, running a hand over her head.

"When the bad guys came to Uncle Steve's house last night . . ." she trailed off, sniffling again.

"Hey, tell me what happened." She shifted in his lap, sitting up straighter and Danny smiled at her encouragingly, not aware that she couldn't really seem him in the darkness. "Come on."

"There was a man with a gun and," she paused to hiccup a couple of times, "Uncle Steve yelled at me to hide and he- he- he-"

"Hey, hey, Monkey," Danny soothed when Gracie suddenly started sobbing. "It's okay, Steve is fine." Okay, there were a few cuts and bruises on his face, but when he showed up in that interrogation room a few hours ago, Steve had seemed to be okay. Well, by his own standards anyway.

"Bu- but-" she continued, her voice a little steadier again, but she was still taking quick and shallow breaths, "the bad guy sho- shot him because of m- me."

Danny blinked a couple of times. Maybe he hadn't heard right. "What did you just say, Monkey?"

"H- h- he shot him b- because of me," she hiccupped again. "I didn't see the b- bad guy. H- he was just there and th- then h- he shot at me-"

"He what?"

"He shot bu- but Uncle St- Steve jumped in front of hi- him."

Okay, tiny little detail Steve must have forgotten to mention when they talked earlier.

"Then he fought with the bad guys. I- I don't know what h- happened then be- because he told me to h- hide."

Okay, consider Grace a little traumatized and not 'fine' as Steve had put it earlier. But to be fair, psychology – or people-things in general – were not really his partner's forte anyway. Danny took a deep breath, reminding himself that both Grace and Steve were at least still in one piece. According to what Grace had just told him, things could have easily gone a lot worse. And he probably even owed his idiot partner a huge thank you for saving his little girl's life.

"You said he got shot? Are you sure about that, Monkey?" Danny finally asked, wondering if maybe things just got a little jumbled in her head.

"Yeah," she said, her breathing finally evening out a bit. "Here," she added and Danny could feel one of her hands press against his side.

Okay, probably just a graze. If Steve had taken a bullet to the lung, he wouldn't have been walking around a few hours later. Probably not, anyway. Chin and Kono wouldn't have let him. "I'm sure it wasn't so bad. He was okay this morning, right?"

He felt Grace nod and heard her sniff a couple of times. "I'm sorry Uncle Steve got hurt be- because of me." She said after a moment.

"Hey, you listen to me very good, Monkey. None of this is your fault, okay? It's-"

And then it hit him. This was all his fault. It was his fault that his little girl almost got killed. If he hadn't thought he could go off alone and handle Matt and all his problems, then none of this would have happened. If he had just gone straight to the FBI, if he had told Steve, if he had handled this like a cop, then Grace would probably be safe right now.

"It's all my fault," he finally admitted in a low voice. He let his head drop back against the wall of the van and closed his eyes for a moment.

What now?

"Why?" Grace asked, and Danny could feel her huge questioning eyes looking at him. But how could he ever explain this to her?

"I'm sorry, Monkey, I lied to you," he started, because, really, now was as a good a time as any to tell her everything. The truth. It was best if it came from him and, hell, maybe this was the least chance he'd ever get. Maybe-

He stopped himself from finishing the thought because, fuck it, even if _he_ didn't deserve it, Steve and the rest of the team would find them and get them out of this mess. They just had to. And he knew that, for Grace, they would. "I didn't go to see grandma. I-"

He got cut off by the back door of the van suddenly being opened. A dull light flooded the inside of their little prison. Danny squinted, confused for a moment. He heard a man say something in Spanish and decided that – nope – this wasn't their rescue. He quickly, but gently maneuvered Grace behind himself, making sure with one arm that she stayed in the far back corner of the van.

Safe. Relatively.

A man, all dressed in black, appeared in the door, blocking out most of the light again. "Get away from the girl," he ordered, speaking with a heavy Mexican accent.

Danny didn't say anything, just stayed where he was, crouched in front of Grace, not intending to move just one inch. They would have to go through him if they wanted to get to her.

"Don't make this any more difficult than it already is, Detective," the man said, patting the automatic gun that hung from his shoulder.

A second man opened the other side of the door, and Danny could spot at least two more guys behind the two standing directly in front of him. The first one jerked his head in his direction. "Get the girl," he said lazily to the others.

The second guy didn't hesitate a second. He climbed into the back of the van, making Danny shrink back further into the corner, closer to Grace, until he was pushing her into the wall of the van with his own body.

The guy grabbed at him, clutching the front of his shirt with his big paw. Danny threw a punch in his direction, catching the guy in the chin, hard, considering there was not much space for him to draw back. The guy grunted in pain, but didn't go down.

Danny threw a second punch, making him lose his balance and fall back on his ass. He recovered quickly and grabbed for his gun. A jolt of panic flashed through Danny but then he realized the guy wasn't about to fire his weapon. He turned it around in his hands and then swung the butt of the gun in the direction of his head. Danny managed to duck out of the way, but the movement caused him to lose his balance.

He grabbed the van's wall for support, but didn't manage to get back up quickly enough. The gun crashed into his temple and he felt his head bang against the wall. He must have lost a few seconds then, because the guy was already reaching for Grace. Danny made a few feeble attempts at getting back on his knees, but his body wouldn't cooperate. He stumbled awkwardly against the wall, his arms buckling.

Then he heard Grace scream.

And that high-pitched cry from her was all the motivation he needed to get back up again. His vision was blurry but he knew the guy was grabbing her now. Danny tried to get to her, but a second guy had climbed into the van and he felt a punch hit him square in the jaw before he could do anything. He didn't really feel any pain, his sole focus was Grace. The other guy was dragging her to the doors now, but she wasn't making things easy for him. She was kicking and screaming and fighting with all the strength she had in that tiny body of hers.

Danny kicked and punched around himself, too, uncoordinated and messy because he was seeing three of everything right now. And somehow he must have hit his mark a couple of times, because the guy's grip on his shirt loosened and he managed to push him off of himself. He struggled to his knees and then tried to grab Grace's leg or arm.

He didn't even see the butt of another guy's rifle slam into his face. Everything was just dark all of a sudden.

* * *

><p>Awkward silence didn't really seem to cover it. It was somehow more than just that. The atmosphere in the SUV was downright unbearable, but given the circumstances, the mood seemed to be kind of appropriate. No one really expected the plan to work, they all agreed on that. But they also agreed that there wasn't a plan B, so plan A would have to do.<p>

Still, it wasn't just the fact that they were quite possibly on a suicide mission that dampened the mood. It was also the question of who was to blame for this massive disaster. In hindsight, Steve regretted jumping down Lake's throat earlier. While she certainly had made a mistake or two, he couldn't really blame just her for the situation. A lot of people had messed up. And – contrary to one Matt Williams – at least she was trying to help fix things.

The drive to the construction site would take them only a few more minutes. They'd get there early (if Lake didn't manage to crash the car into a ditch first – her driving did leave something to be desired), since it hadn't taken them long to get back to headquarters and get ready.

Steve had put on some nicer clothes, trying to look the part of Matt Williams. Chin had planted a small GPS transmitter on him to give the rest of the team a chance to find him if he should get lost. A long shot, but maybe Carlos Fuentes was getting sloppy and didn't consider the possibility.

Yeah, fat chance of that happening.

Kono had grabbed a sniper rifle from the armory because – according to her – there was no way in hell she'd let him walk in there with no back-up. Steve let her, not only because he knew that Kono couldn't just sit around and do nothing but wait. No, the rookie had proven before that she could be a valuable asset from a distance.

With Kono on board, Chin and Lake's partner – Conrad Bixler – had left in a second car a few minutes earlier. They'd wait for Fuentes at the access point to the construction site, ready to take him down or follow him after the exchange.

When they arrived at the bottom of the pit, there was no sign of anyone else around. The sun had already begun to set and it was slowly getting darker. Steve glanced at his watch. Seven minutes to go.

Since he didn't wear an earpiece, Steve had brought a radio, which he now grabbed from the dashboard to get a status report from everyone. Also, he really needed to do something to pass the time because this silence was well beyond awkward.

"Kono, come in."

"_I'm in position, boss," _her voice crackled over the radio. _"Got a good visual of you guys, clear line of fire."_

"Good, but remember, Kono, you don't-"

"_-shoot unless absolutely necessary. Got that the first six times you told me."_

Steve smiled and nodded to himself, knowing he did good when he picked her for the team. "Chin?" he asked into the radio.

"_We're ready. No sign of Fuentes yet."_

"Okay. Stay sharp."

And there it was again. The awkward silence. Just . . . great.

Steve felt like he should say something. At least maybe remind Lake that – if anything – they had to get Grace out. Also, maybe, apologize. But that was neither something he was particularly good at, nor really a priority right now. He cleared his throat – awkwardly, mood appropriate – before he started to speak. "Listen, Agent Lake-"

"No," she said, cutting him off. "No, I should . . ." she trailed off and blew out a long breath. "I know I messed up, okay. I messed up really bad but, you know, Kipton . . . he's . . . He _was_ my boss for the last two months and I know it's not exactly a lifetime but . . . I've known him longer than that. I-" She swallowed and ran a hand through her hair, tucking a few loose strands behind her ear. "I trusted him with my life. I'm sure you- you understand what that means." She looked up at him, just for a moment, before her gaze dropped back down to her hands that were still gripping the steering wheel tightly. "I just . . . I didn't- I can't believe that he would do something like this." She shook her head absently and sniffed loudly.

Steve didn't know what to say. He understood that all this must be hard on her, too. That she'd need some time to get her head around everything that happened in the last 24 hours. And she could have all the time she needed . . . Just not right now. Not when the guy who was holding Danny and Grace hostage was about to show up to exchange them for someone they couldn't give him. She could have all the feelings she wanted to have about all this. Just not right now.

Not when he was around, period.

He needed to do something to snap her head back into the game. And fast.

"What, are you gonna cry about it now?" he asked, trying to sound as arrogantly as he could muster (and, yes, he could do insensitive jerk pretty well when he needed to), throwing a disapproving look in her direction.

"What?" Lake said, her head snapping back up, turning to face him slowly and Steve could see the tears swimming in her reddened eyes. Oh, geez. "No, I- I'm not gonna cry," she said defensively, flustered all of a sudden.

"Good," Steve simply said and continued to scan their surroundings for signs of Fuentes. "Cause, you know, I don't have a tissue or anything I could offer you, so-" He left the sentence hanging and just shrugged.

Lake huffed next to him. "I wouldn't want your tissue, even if I was crying," she said, sniffling, obviously trying her best to reign in her emotions. "But, I'm not, so-"

"Good," Steve cut her off, his tone still dismissive and rude, but really he needed Lake to switch gears in her head right now. Self-pity and regret was not a mindset that would help him get anyone out of this situation alive. He needed everyone sharp, focused, and on edge. And that was what he was doing. Putting her on edge. "That's good."

"And even if I was crying-" Lake started, but was thankfully interrupted by Chin's voice coming over the radio again.

"_We got movement. Three black SUVs heading your way."_

"We're so dead."

Steve turned around to Lake and put a hand on her right shoulder, locking eyes with her. "Hey," he said, trying to get her to focus, "listen to me. Whatever happens, you make sure Grace is safe. You got that?"

She just started at him.

"Lake!"

"He wanted me to make the exchange because he knows I suck at this."

"What?" Steve blinked at her. What the hell, they didn't have time for this.

"I'm a terrible field agent. I failed my firearms proficiency exam three times before I barely passed it," she rattled off, breathing quickly and unevenly. "I- I'm not good at this. I- Kipton knows that. That's why Fuentes wants me to make the exchange. Because I'm not a threat. When- whenever I pull my gun, Bixler ducks." Her eyes were huge with fear and she just stared at him, chest heaving with every shallow breath and all Steve could think was – fuck, Lake, you're not hyperventilating right now.

"I- I can't do this." Her left hand went to the door handle. Was she really thinking about running right now?

Steve reached over and grabbed her left wrist, hard, and pulled her entire body around to face him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the headlights of the approaching vehicles dancing in the distance. So he had about ten seconds to fix this. Shit.

"Hey, Edith, listen to me. There's a little girl, her name is Grace, who, in the last 24 hours, has been shot at and kidnapped. And yes, partly, that is your fault. I get that you're scared, but think about how scared Grace is right now. You are the only one who can make sure she gets home safe tonight. She needs you to focus. She needs you to not be scared right now. And you owe it to her."

She just stared back at him, unblinking. Steve kept looking in her eyes for some sign that she was snapping out of her panic, but there was nothing.

"Lake!" he barked after a moment and she flinched.

Closing her eyes, Lake blew out a long breath. "Okay. Okay." Deep breath in. "Okay." She opened her eyes and Steve was relieved to see a glint of a newfound determination in them. "Shit," she said after another moment. "Let's do this."

"Let's," Steve agreed, sucking in a deep breath in relief.

"Just one thing."

"What?"

"You need to let go of my hand."

* * *

><p>The three SUVs lined up in front of them. The high beams were almost blinding them and Edith brought up a hand to shield her eyes from the bright light. It took a few seconds until they were finally dimmed down.<p>

Both, she and McGarrett, waited in silence for Fuentes and his guys to make the first move. And they did. After about a minute, the doors of the SUV in the middle opened and two men climbed out of the car. As if on cue, more men exited the other vehicles. Apparently, Fuentes had brought the whole gang. And the gang had brought their toys. Most of the men held automatic weapons in front of themselves, fingers on triggers, ready to shoot their way out.

"Get out of the car!" one of the men yelled with a Mexican accent.

McGarrett reached for the door handle, but Edith stopped him by putting a hand on his arm. "Wait."

He turned around to look at her, and she could see that 'oh crap' expression on his face and almost rolled her eyes at him. But then, she couldn't exactly blame him for expecting another panic attack.

"I'll go, you wait here."

McGarrett hesitated but then nodded, the confidence in her voice apparently convincing him.

Edith unholstered her gun and put it on the center console. McGarrett stared at her like she was crazy.

"What the hell are you doing?" he hissed, his hand grabbing hers as she put the Glock down.

"I told you, I'm not good with guns. And it's not like I'd stand a chance if it comes down to a firefight anyway." They stared at each other. Again. "Look, I know it's absurd, but I'd be more comfortable out there without this." McGarrett's hand was still firmly pressing hers down on the gun. "Trust me."

He scrunched up his face at that and Edith could tell that – no, of course he didn't trust her. But his grip on her hand loosened nonetheless. Because he knew as well as she did, that he didn't really have a choice. He had to trust her.

"I hope you know what you're doing."

"Yeah, me too."

With that, she slipped her hand out from under his grasp and opened the car's door. She climbed out, heart pounding in her chest, and slowly made her way around the car. She stopped right in front of it, crossing her arms over her chest, even though the stance was a little uncomfortable with the tac-vest on.

"Special Agent Edith Lake, I assume," another man said as he exited the back of the center SUV. Carlos Fuentes. "I'm glad you could make it." The man smiled at her as he walked past his goons, stopping in front of his car.

"Cut the crap, Fuentes. Where are they?" Despite the edge of panic that still had her pulse going a mile a minute, Edith's voice was calm and steady, aimed to make Fuentes doubt that he was the one in charge here. To make him nervous, sloppy. To make him make a mistake. To give them a chance.

This was what Edith was usually good at. She could talk bullshit for hours, push people's buttons, and make them do things they didn't really want to do. But usually she did this kind of stuff in the safety of the field office, with a cuffed suspect and an entire building full of back-up. Not like this.

Fuentes looked at her for a moment, eyes squinting, assessing the situation. Assessing her. Then he nodded at one of the guys behind him. The man walked to the back of the SUV and moments later, Edith saw Grace. With a hand firmly on the little girl's neck, the goon walked her to stand next to Fuentes. "Your turn," he announced, nodding his head towards the car behind Edith.

"Where's Detective Williams?" Edith put her hands on her hips, trying not to look at Grace. Because she doubted that she'd be able to keep up the act if she looked into those huge, fearful eyes again. "I thought we had a deal."

"He's insurance," Fuentes said, resting a hand on Grace's head, stroking her hair softly before his hand replace the one of his goon on her neck. Edith swallowed hard when she saw the man's hand give the little girl's neck a firm squeeze.

"Where is he?"

"Somewhere you won't find him until I'm long gone."

Edith thought about just walking away from the deal, to throw Fuentes off balance, but then McGarrett's orders had been clear. Grace Williams' safety came first.

"Alright," she said and walked around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door. A look from McGarrett and a curt nod told her that she'd made the right call – at least according to him. She grabbed his arm none too gently, feeling the tenseness of his muscles, and pulled him out of the car. Never letting go of him, she walked him to stand about ten feet across from Fuentes and Grace. She kept her eyes on Fuentes the entire time, studying the man's reaction, looking for a sign of whether or not he called their bluff. "So, how do you wanna do this, on the count of three or something?" she asked with another casual shrug.

"Not so fast," Fuentes said and Edith felt her heart skip a beat.

Oh, shit.

Fuentes bent down to Grace. She instinctively tried to back away, but he held her firmly in place with the hand on the back of her neck. "Alright, chica, tell me this one thing and you can go home to your mommy." Crouching down, Fuentes smiled at Grace. She just stared back at him, obviously terrified. "That man," he said, jerking a thumb in McGarrett's direction, "is he your uncle?"

Grace stared at McGarrett, then back to Fuentes but kept her mouth firmly shut. Fuentes gave her neck another rough squeeze. "Answer the question, little chica," he hissed at her.

Grace's eyes – wide and terrified – shot back up at McGarrett. Edith could almost feel him vibrating with rage next to herself. Her hand still on his arm, she gave it a quick squeeze, not sure what she thought the gesture would accomplish.

"It's okay, Gracie," McGarrett said through gritted teeth. "Tell him."

What the hell? Edith could only barely stop herself from gaping at McGarrett's words. Was things guy trying to sabotage his own plan now?

"Is he your uncle?" Fuentes asked again, shaking Grace a little and Edith could feel McGarrett's bicep flex under her hand.

Staring at McGarrett the entire time, Grace finally nodded slowly.

Fuentes got back up, smiling satisfied. "Grab him," he ordered his men, jerking his head in McGarrett's direction. Three guys came walking towards Edith and him and her grip on his arm tightened involuntarily.

Holding up the other hand in front of herself, she took a step back, dragging McGarrett along with her. "Hold up," was all she got out, before one of the men pushed her aside. She stumbled against the hood of her car and watched how the other two grabbed McGarrett's arms and started shoving him towards the SUV parked in the middle. He went compliantly, keeping his eyes on Grace, who was still in Fuentes' hands.

Recovering quickly, Edith made to follow McGarrett and the goons, but the guy who had pushed her was now aiming his gun at her. She rolled her eyes, searching out Fuentes. "What, you just gonna have me shot now?" she asked, throwing her hands up challengingly.

Fuentes smiled at her. "I have no interest in killing you or the girl," he said, watching his men wrestle McGarrett into the back of the SUV. Edith kept waiting for him to put up some sort of fight, but he didn't. And in the back of her mind, she knew he wouldn't. Not as long as Fuentes had his dirty little paw on the back of Grace's neck.

The doors of the SUV slammed shut.

Shit.

Fuentes gave Grace a push and she stumbled a few steps forward.

"Vamos!" he yelled at his people and everyone got back into the cars, except for the one guy who still kept his gun leveled at Edith's head. Fuentes himself climbed into the passenger seat of the SUV his goons had shoved McGarrett in. The high beams light up again, the harsh light blinding Edith once more. She could barely see anything, only that the guy in front of her finally lowered the weapon and then disappeared into the brightness. Three engines roared and then the cars turned away, one by one, driving off.

Edith spotted Grace, lost and forlorn, standing a few feet away from her. She quickly ran over to the little girl. Crouching down besides her, she slowly reached for her hand. "Hey, sweetheart, it's okay, you're safe now," she said, trying to get Grace's attention. She finally looked at her with huge, terrified eyes that were glistening with tears.

Carefully, Edith wrapped both arms around her.

**-to be continued-**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** I really can't thank you all enough for all the feedback and support! I really _really_ appreciate it!

I hope you will enjoy this chapter :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

"Kono, what's going on?" Chin stared out into the darkness in front of him. He couldn't see anything of what was going on down in the pit from where their car was parked. But then that was kind of the point, making sure their car could not be seen by Fuentes and his men either. Kono, through the scope of the sniper rifle on the other hand, had a clear view of everything going on down there.

"_They put Steve in one of the cars, still no sign of Danny,"_ Kono's voice came over the com-link in his ear. _"He didn't put up a fight."_

Chin looked over to Conrad Bixler who was sitting in the passenger seat of his truck, looking every bit as nervous as he felt himself. "What about Edie?" Bixler asked urgently. The guy had almost bolted from the car a few seconds ago when Kono had told them that one of Fuentes' men had pulled a gun on her.

"_She's good."_

"Relax, brah," Chin said with a calmness he didn't feel at all. "If Fuentes wanted her dead, he would have just shot her right away."

"I know." Bixler sighed. "I know."

"_Guys, there's some movement. I think they're getting ready to roll."_

"What about Grace?" Chin asked, staring back out into the darkness, looking for signs of the cars approaching.

"_Looks like they're leaving her with Lake. Still no sign of Danny." _There was a pause. _"What are we gonna do about Steve?"_

Good question. It looked like Grace was gonna be safe. But what now? It wasn't like they had a contingency plan or anything.

"Agent Bixler and I are gonna try and follow them, see where they're taking Steve. Maybe we get lucky and they're taking him to where they're holding Danny."

"_Right, because we're lucky like that."_

"Keep the faith, cuz."

"_Easier said than done."_

"Here they come," Bixler announced, jerking his head in the direction of the pit, where bright lights were now illuminating the night sky.

"Alright, stay on the line, Kono. And update SWAT on what's going on."

"_You got it. Be safe, guys."_

Chin waited until the three SUVs had passed them before he started the car. Slowly, he pulled out from behind a row of containers to follow Fuentes – and Steve – at a safe distance.

They hit a main road after a few minutes and Chin was about to tell Kono to have SWAT close up on their position when suddenly one of the three SUVs made a turn while the other two continued straight ahead.

"What the hell?" Bixler said, his gaze following the vehicle that had made the turn.

Faced with a split-second decision, Chin chose to follow the two cars that continued on the main road.

"How do we know McGarrett isn't in that one?" Bixler asked, jerking his thumb in the direction of the third SUV which was now quickly moving away from them.

Chin sighed. "We don't."

"Gut feeling?"

"Two in three chance," Chin admitted with a shrug.

"Right."

"Anything on the tracker?"

Bixler checked his smart phone and shook his head. "Nope, McGarrett still hasn't turned it on."

With a sigh, Chin continued to follow the two cars, hoping he'd made the right call. After a few minutes, he realized they were heading towards Sand Island. Good. The fact that the cars were moving towards the coast was good. Because Fuentes was probably not keen on sticking around on the island now that he had what he wanted. He was going to try and run. And since leaving undetected on a boat was far easier than flying out, there was a good chance that Fuentes – and Steve – were actually in one of the cars in front of them. However, it was still a gamble. Maybe a gamble on Steve's life.

Ten minutes later, they had reached the industrial area close to the harbor. From a safe distance, they could see the SUVs pull up in front of a run-down looking warehouse. Moments later, the gate was opened and the cars drove inside, disappearing when the gate closed again.

"So," Bixler said, shifting in his seat. "Are we gonna wait for SWAT, or . . ." he said, leaving the sentence hanging.

Chin raised an eyebrow at the agent.

He just gave a somewhat defensive shrug. "What? You guys have quite the reputation."

Chin couldn't help but smile. "We're not that crazy. You relay our location to HPD, tell them to send at least two units," he said, grabbing his own cell phone. "I'm gonna check in with Kono and Agent Lake."

* * *

><p>Roughly fifteen minutes later SWAT arrived at the scene. Chin, Bixler and one of the SWAT units waited until the second team had positioned themselves around the warehouse, covering all exit points from rooftops of close-by buildings. Kono and Lake were on their way, but Chin didn't think they had any time to spare to wait for them. If Steve wasn't inside the warehouse, they had one more SUV to track down.<p>

When Chin finally got the word from the SWAT leader that his people were all in position – no visual of the inside of the warehouse, but no one was gonna get out of there unnoticed – he gave the signal to move in. They quickly approached the front of the building. Two SWAT guys smashed down a small door next to the main gate and they went in, red laser dots swarming around in the large and dark warehouse within seconds. There were three black cars parked at the far end and Chin could make out five men standing close by. Then all hell broke loose.

As soon as the men noticed what was going on, guns were drawn. Chin didn't even get the chance to shout something along the lines of 'Five-0, everyone down on the ground' before the first shots rang out. The goons dove for cover behind their cars when SWAT returned the fire with full force. Realizing they didn't stand a chance, and obviously not ready to die for their boss, they quickly surrendered, throwing their weapons on the ground and lying face down.

While SWAT made sure they stayed that way, Chin and Bixler approached the two SUVs.

Both were empty. No Steve.

Shit.

"Kelly, over here," one of the SWAT guys yelled from behind the third vehicle.

"What do you got?" Chin called back, quickly making his way around to the back of the van, closely followed by Bixler.

Danny.

He looked terrible. The front of his shirt and most of his face were covered in almost dried blood, the rest of his clothes were soaked with sweat, and his hair was sticking in all directions. But – thank god – he was alive, conscious and sitting up.

"Hey, brah," Chin said with a relieved smile. "It's good to see you."

Danny's head snapped up, his eyes – unfocused and wide – landed on Chin and, in a second, Danny was up and out of the van. He was swaying but somehow managed to stay upright for about one and a half steps before he leaned forward, catching himself on Chin's shoulder.

"Woah there, brah, what's the rush?" Chin asked, firmly grabbing Danny by one arm and one shoulder, trying to steady his wobbly stance as well as he could.

"Grace," was all Danny managed, his hands grabbing Chin's shoulder and arm so tightly it hurt. "They took Grace."

Shit. How could he forget about Grace. "It's okay, man." Chin tried, not sure whether he was getting through to Danny. "Grace is safe." Chin ducked his head, trying to get into his unfocussed line of sight. "Hey," he tried again, a little louder this time, when Danny's death grip didn't loosen. "Grace is safe, you hear me? She's fine. Kono's with her."

"Grace?" Danny asked again, his voice less urgent.

"Yeah brah, she's fine," Chin assure him again. "Kono's got her. She's safe."

Danny nodded hesitantly, his hands finally releasing him. Slowly, Chin guided him back to the van two feet behind them and pushed him down to sit in the open door again. Danny let him, his more than likely concussed brain finally catching up with the information.

Chin turned his attention to the SWAT guy next to them. The guy and Agent Bixler had watched the two, ready to jump in and help Chin take Danny's weight if he had collapsed. "Get EMS in here."

The guy confirmed the order with a curt nod before he stepped a few feet away to radio for the paramedics.

Keeping a steadying hand on Danny's shoulder, making sure he didn't topple over backwards, Chin turned to Bixler next. "Can you go and check if Kono's here yet? I think he needs to see for himself," he added, nodding his head in Danny's direction.

"Sure, be right back," Bixler said and disappeared towards the warehouse entrance.

"I'm good," Danny suddenly decided and made a feeble attempt at getting back up again.

"I don't think so, brah." Chin kept his hand on Danny's shoulder, pushing him back down, gently but firmly. "You're not going anywhere until EMS has checked you over."

With a resigned sigh, Danny agreed and leaned forward, propping his elbows up on his thighs. Suppressing a pained groan, he blinked up at Chin. "What happened? What did they want with Grace?"

Cringing at the question, Chin decided to try and buy himself some time. "It's complicated. Let's get you checked out first."

"Hey," Danny said, his hand suddenly grabbing Chin's. He was looking up at him again, eyes focused now and full of concern. "What's going on? Where's Matt?"

With a sigh, Chin sat down next to Danny in the door of the van. "When we got to the motel, he was already gone. He left a note for you. Said he was sorry."

"He's sorry. That- that's great." Danny sighed, swiping the back of his hand across his mouth, absently rubbing away some of the dried blood that had gushed from his nose. Chin slowly put an arm around his shoulder, sensing that he could probably use some kind of support . . . because the worst part was still coming.

"Fuentes called us. Said he wanted to exchange you and Grace for your brother. But . . . we couldn't give him who he wanted."

"What did you- what did _he_ do?" Danny was suddenly looking around the warehouse, searching for someone – and Chin was pretty sure it's wasn't Grace.

"Fuentes gave us an hour to give him your brother. He said he'd kill you in front of Grace if we didn't."

"What did Steve do?"

Chin sighed. There was just no way around this. "He pretended to be Matt. Somehow, Fuentes bought it. He let Grace go but took Steve."

Before Chin could stop him, Danny was up on his feet again. Steadier than earlier, but he still grabbed the door of the van for support. "That stupid idiot," he muttered, breathing heavily, probably due to the obviously broken nose. "Where is he now?"

Chin didn't answer right away. Instead, he tried to make Danny sit back down again, but he just irritably swatted his hands away.

"Chin, tell me you know where Steve is."

"Sorry, brah."

Danny ran a hand through his wild, messy hair and started swaying again. Chin took hold of his other arm and finally managed to guide him to sit back down in the van. EMS arrived and the two paramedics started to check on Danny. He tried to fight them at first, but quickly submitted to the examination, having finally reached his limits.

* * *

><p>By the time Bixler came back – Kono, Grace and Agent Lake in tow – the paramedics had thankfully managed to clean most of the blood off Danny's face. And even in spite of the bruising along his jaw that was now visible, Chin thought he looked a lot better than he had before. Less likely to give Grace yet another huge scare. The girl had definitely been through enough.<p>

Grace had her arms tightly squeezed around Kono's neck and Kono was panting when the little group reached the van, apparently having carried Grace ever since they got her back. She still managed a smile when she spotted Danny in the back of the van.

"Hey Gracie, look who's here," Kono said, nudging the side of Grace's head with her nose before she slowly turned around so that Grace was no longer facing the entrance of the warehouse but the van with Danny inside instead.

"Danno," Grace croaked and started to struggle to get to her daddy.

A huge, dimply smile spread across Kono's face when she set Grace down and the little girl practically flung herself at her dad.

"Monkey," Danny whispered, carefully pressing his somewhat swollen face against her head as she hugged him tightly.

Chin took a moment to enjoy seeing Danny and Grace reunited. Even with Steve missing now – and not knowing whether he was even still alive –, it felt like they had made the right choice.

"Hey," Kono's voice interrupted the peaceful moment far too soon. "We got anything on Steve?" she asked, the happy dimples on her face now replaced by a worried frown.

Chin shot a questioningly look in Bixler's direction, but the Agent shook his head and said, "nothing on the tracker, sorry."

"What now?" Kono asked with and uncharacteristically helpless shrug, looking around the small group.

Chin hated disappointing her, but right now, he couldn't think of anything. They already had BOLOs out on Fuentes, Steve, and the black SUV, but without a plate or any other distinguishing markers it was like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack.

"Hey guys," Danny suddenly called from behind him. Chin and the rest of the small group all turned around. Grace was by now sitting in the door of the van next to him, curled up against his side while he had one arm tightly wrapped around her.

"What is it, Danny?" Chin asked, walking a few steps towards him but making sure he wasn't getting in the way of the paramedics.

"I just- I'm sorry I didn't mention this before, but everything's a bit blurry right now-"

"It's okay, brah, take it easy," Chin offered. "What is it?"

"The guys who came here, they- they said they were gonna take me to Matt."

Chin frowned. "Are you sure, Danny."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Chin," Danny said, narrowing his eyes, "those guys you arrested, they probably know where Fuentes took Steve."

* * *

><p>The road was uneven now, rattling the SUV and its passengers as it hit pothole after pothole, making Steve bump shoulders with the two men sitting on each side of him. There was a third sitting across from him, cradling a submachine gun in his hands. Due to the tinted windows, it was too dark to make out the make and model of the weapon. But then it didn't really matter anyway.<p>

The guys were big, enforcers, the kind of people drug dealers like Fuentes surrounded themselves with to do their dirty work for them. These men had killed before and they wouldn't hesitate to do it again. It didn't matter that they weren't the most loyal bunch. Killing was something these guys grew up with. It wasn't anything special to them, just part of the job.

But even if these men were ruthless killers, Steve knew that he could (probably) take them. Maybe not right now, not with the van moving this erratically, and maybe not as efficiently and quickly as he could without his hands cuffed in front of him . . . but still. If it was necessary, he could definitely take these guys.

Maybe definitely.

If it wasn't for the SMG in the one guy's hands, then definitely maybe.

Not that it would be a particularly smart idea to fire a submachine gun in a closed space like the back of an SUV – ricocheting bullets would probably kill everyone in the car – but then Steve didn't really have this guy pegged as someone who considered details like that before firing away like a maniac.

So he decided to not make a move right now. Plus, he still didn't know whether Danny was safe yet. It was too soon to make a move. Maybe he'd overhear Fuentes say something about Danny. Maybe his circumstances for a hand-to-hand fight would improve. After all, these guys didn't know they were dealing with a Navy SEAL. They still thought they were driving a hedge fund manager around the island. Maybe they'd give him a better opening to take them out soon.

Maybe.

But Steve was optimistic. The only thing dampening his mood was the fact that they had searched him and found the tracker. One of the goons had stomped his foot down on it over and over again, practically turning it into a pile of dust on the SUV's floor. His team definitely didn't know where he was – and neither did he for that matter – so he couldn't really count on back-up showing up any time soon.

After what Steve estimated to be about thirty minutes, the car finally stopped. The guy with the gun opened the door and the one to Steve's left shoved him up and outside. Looking around, he realized they were in a huge open building, a hangar. He didn't recognized which air field this was, but the landscape outside seemed familiar. They seemed to be a few minutes inland from the east coast, off Kamehameha Highway. Not exactly the middle of nowhere, but not really close to, well, anything either.

Steve turned around and watched Fuentes climb out of the passenger side of the SUV. The man was fiddling with his cell, not paying attention to anything or anyone around him. He seemed unhappy, angry even, and Steve wondered if this was the moment to make a move. But unlike their boss, Fuentes' goons seemed to be on alert. The guy with the SMG – a PP-2000 as it turned out, Russian, able to fire armor-piercing bullets. Fuck. Not that he was wearing a vest in the first place, but still – had his weapon now trained on him.

Fuentes glanced up from his phone for a brief moment. With a jerk of his head, he gave an order to his men and then continued pushing buttons on his cell.

Strong hand gripped Steve's upper arms. The one on his left growled, "vamos", in his ear and then they started dragging him towards a door at the far right side of the large hangar.

Steve put up some resistance, just because, and soon felt something being pushed into his back. Probably the nose of the PP-2000. "Apurate," a voice behind him commanded and the weapon hit his back again.

The guy on his right kicked the door open, revealing a small room, windowless, dark, with nothing but a chair at the center. Much like the interrogation room they had at HQ.

This was not foreboding at all.

The two men at his sides shoved him down to sit on the chair, while the one with the SMG stayed by the door. When one of the guys unlocked his cuffs, Steve contemplated whether he should finally make his move, but eventually decided against it, considering that he didn't want to test just how trigger happy the third guy was. His hands were cuffed again, this time behind his back, looped through the backrest of the chair, which seemed to be bolted to the floor.

Great. Just . . . great.

A few minutes passed until Fuentes walked into the small room. He looked mad, like something was not going according to plan and Steve started to worry that the guy had realized that he wasn't, in fact, Matt Williams.

Fuentes stood right in front of him, hands on his hips, taking his time to study Steve. "Where is it?" he asked after a little while with a jerk of his head.

Taken aback by the unexpected question, Steve just stared at him blankly. Was Fuentes talking about the money? They had assumed that Kipton had taken it back to him after locking Danny up in the interrogation room . . . but maybe the guy had figured that ten million was a pretty sweet retirement package and decided to try and make a break for it.

"Where's what?" Steve asked eventually. He wanted to be sure they were talking about the same 'something' before telling the man anything.

Fuentes let out an impatient snort, the question obviously not helping his already aggravated mood. He drew back his arm and backhanded Steve across the jaw, hitting him square in the day-old bruise and making him inadvertently wince in pain. "I don't have time for stupid games, Mr. Williams," Fuentes said, grabbing Steve's chin and giving it a firm squeeze. "Tell me where the flash drive is."

"I don't know what you're talking about." It was the truth.

Fuentes hit him again, harder this time. The man's patience was wearing thin rather quickly. He grabbed Steve's hair and yanked his head back, bringing his mouth close to Steve's ear. "Tell me where the flash drive is," he repeated in a low, menacing voice. "Right now," he added, hissing the words.

"I'm not gonna tell you anything until I know my brother is safe."

Clicking his tongue like a reptile, Fuentes released his grip and turned around, walking a few steps away. He pulled something from the pocket of his pants and Steve only recognize the object to be a Swiss army knife when Fuentes flicked it open and started to clean out the dirt from under his fingernails with it.

"You know, I had meant for your brother to join us here," he said casually, as he kept picking at his fingers with the knife. "Have him help me convince you that it's better for the both of you if you just tell me what I want to know. But it looks like there have been some . . . complications." Fuentes' eyes snapped up from his hands and back to Steve.

He tried to keep his expression even, unimpressed by what Fuentes was suggesting about what his original plan had been. Torture the one brother to get information from the other. Shit, whatever those 'complications' were, Steve was grateful that he wouldn't be put in the position of having to watch his partner suffer for something he was unable to give to Fuentes. Of course, 'complications' could mean anything, from the rest of the team finding Danny to him being killed in a freak car accident on his way over here.

But this wasn't the time to think about all the 'ifs', it was time to hope for the best for Danny and then focus on his own screwed up situation, because Fuentes was right in front of Steve again, making sure the knife was directly in his line of sight.

"The question now is just how hard you're going to make this for yourself."

Oh, this was gonna be really fucking hard, because he just didn't have what Fuentes wanted from him. "I'm dead as soon as I tell you where it is," Steve said calmly, staring blankly ahead, not acknowledging the knife that Fuentes kept fiddling with in front of his eyes. "So what makes you think I'm gonna tell you?" he added with a nonchalant shrug.

"You're dead anyway, Williams. I have a plane picking me up at eleven p.m. and I do not intend to take you with me. So it's up to you how you're going to spend the last two hours of your life." Fuentes leaned down again. He brought his face close to Steve's and put a hand firmly on the back of his neck, giving it a firm squeeze. "And trust me when I tell you, I can make those two hours _very_ uncomfortable for you."

The guy's breath reeked, making Steve's stomach turn. He decided he needed to do something. Show this guy that intimidation tactics were not gonna work on him, but he also knew that he needed to keep the charade up. It was the only thing keeping him alive, because Fuentes was definitely not the type to be afraid of killing a cop. Navy SEAL. Whatever.

"You understand me, Williams?" Fuentes asked, and Steve could feel the grip on his neck tighten again. He pushed his head back, against the force of Fuentes' hand trying to hold him in place, and then slammed his head as hard as he could into the man's face.

Fuentes yelped in pain, the hand from Steve's neck going immediately to his own face in a futile attempt to stop the blood from spurting from his nose like a fountain. He cursed a few times then hissed something at his goons in Spanish.

Steve didn't really feel any pain when something connected hard with the base of his skull. Everything just went black.

**-to be continued-**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading and reviewing the last chapter! I'm really surprised and overwhelmed by the response to this little story, so THANK YOU again. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter! :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

There was no time for standard procedure right now and Danny swore it was just because there was never anything standard with Steve McGarrett. But hauling Fuentes' goons back to HQ, putting them into the dark interrogation room, putting long and hard enough pressure on them until they caved and gave up their boss' location really wasn't an option. They had to move fast. For all they knew, Fuentes didn't really have a reason to keep Steve alive; it didn't matter whether or not he knew that Steve wasn't actually Matt.

The only hope Danny had left for his partner to still be alive was that Fuentes was old fashioned and cliché when it came to revenge. That he would take his time and make him suffer.

Fuck. Here he was, hoping that Steve was being tortured right now, because the alternative was just not something he even wanted to think about.

Danny was still a little unsteady on his feet, but screw that, he would crawl if he had to. Chin was next to him, ready to carry his ass if necessary and, hell, it might be. What had looked like a relatively short distance at first glance now felt like a marathon to Danny. He was almost panting when they finally reached the main entrance of the warehouse. Thankfully, the squad car with Fuentes' goons inside was parked just outside the building.

"Open it," Chin said to a young HPD officer – his name eluded Danny's concussed head at the moment, but the face seemed familiar – and gestured for him to open the back door of the car.

The officer looked somewhat worried from Chin to Danny but eventually did as he was told.

Danny took a moment to study the five faces. The truth was, though, that they all looked the same to him. His vision was still pretty blurry and it was really dark and this could be a car full of Victoria's Secret models and he wouldn't be able to tell the difference. But he took Chin's word for it that he was performing for the right audience. Because he was making a show of looking them up and down, assessing them, singling out the weak link. When he was done, he jerked his head towards the guy on the right. "That one," he said to Chin, who progressed to haul the guy out of the car. Danny smiled at the remaining four before he slammed the door shut.

"Hey," Danny hollered to get the HPD officer's attention. "Why don't you go take a walk."

"But- but I'm supposed to watch them," the kid sputtered, confused.

"It's okay, Aaron," Chin assured him. "We got them."

"But I'm not supposed to-"

"Take a walk, kid," Danny warned, losing his patience fast. "You don't wanna be here for this," he added, slapping the goon on his back. He had to hide a satisfied smile when he felt the guy flinch.

"The chief said that under no circumstances-"

"Officer Kaiwi," Chin interrupted, now clearly pulling rank on the poor guy and staring him down menacingly. "Detective Williams could really use a cup of coffee right about now."

Sighing, Aaron Kaiwi finally caved. "I'll be right back," he muttered defeated and then stalked away, peeking over his shoulder, trying to see what was going to happen.

Grabbing Fuentes' guy by the color of his shirt, Chin dragged him around to the side of the car where they were out of sight from everyone. He gave the man a firm push, making him stumble and crash his face into the car, since he was unable to break the fall with his hands cuffed behind his back.

"What the fuck, man?"

Danny didn't give the man any time to recover. He grabbed him by the color again, shoved him up against the car and planted his forearm across his throat, almost sealing off his airway. Ignoring the pain flaring up in his head, Danny craned his neck up at the guy and pressed down a little harder. "Where's Fuentes?"

The man had the nerve to flash him a strangled grin. "I'm not saying anything without my lawyer," he hissed, barely able to draw in a decent breath.

Danny smiled back. Then he grabbed for the gun in Chin's holster with his free hand and brought it up to the guy's head. "You sure about that? Huh?" he asked through gritted teeth, pressing the sig against the man's temple.

Clearly uncomfortable now, the guy grunted. "You're not gonna shoot me, cop," he spat.

Danny grinned at that and turned to Chin. "He thinks I'm not gonna shoot him."

"Come on, brah," Chin said with a casual shrug, "cut him some slack. He's obviously not from here. Probably doesn't know how we do things on this island."

"You're right," Danny agreed conversationally, before he turned his head back to the guy in front of him. "Do you really want me to show you how we do things around here?" he asked, thumbing the safety off. "Huh?"

"You're bluffing," the guy hissed. "Puta," he added and spat Danny in the face.

"What did you just call me?"

"Puta," the man repeated and grinned at him widely.

"I think he just called you a little bitch, Danny," Chin said calmly.

Danny let go of the guy and turned away from him, carefully wiping the spit from his face, avoiding his swollen nose as good as possible. "Uncuff him, Chin," he said with a sniff.

Chin gave him a knowing smile, before he did as Danny had told him. Even though they hadn't talked this through, they both knew how to play it. Yup, Danny thought, in just under a year Steve had managed to screw them all up pretty well.

"Ey, what are you doing?" the crook yelled when Danny aimed the gun at him again.

"Well," Danny said and shrugged nonchalantly, "telling IA that you attacked my partner and forced me to shoot you is just that much more believable when you're not wearing the pretty bracelets, so . . ." He left the sentence hanging, for dramatic reasons, and turned to Chin. "Double tap center mass or should I make him suffer?"

Chin sucked in a breath, pretending to be contemplating the question. "Ah, I don't know brah. Probably better take him right out. We don't wanna risk him surviving and telling anyone about all this, right?"

Danny grinned at Chin. "Come on, who'd believe this guy."

"True," Chin agreed, tilting his head.

"I was thinking about going for his throat," Danny said and raised the gun a little higher. "Maybe I get lucky, hit major artery or something, making him choke on his own blood."

"Ambitious," Chin commented, raising his eyebrows approvingly. "Would also help to explain the bruises you left on his neck."

"We were only trying to stop the bleeding."

"But unfortunately we were unable to save him," Chin added with a heavy sigh.

"So," Danny said and turned his attention back to the guy who was now desperately trying to disappear into the wall of the squad car behind him. "Last chance, buddy. Where did Fuentes take my brother?"

The man hesitated, looking from Danny to Chin and then back at Danny. Back at the gun in his hand. But he didn't say anything.

"Okay then," Danny said and raised the gun to aim at the man's neck.

"NO! Wait!"

Bingo.

Danny lowered the gun a couple inches. "Where is he?"

"There's a- an airfield somewhere off Kamehameha Highway," the guy stuttered, slowly sliding down the side of the car, his eyes never leaving the gun in Danny's hand.

Danny looked over to Chin, raising his eyebrows and he understood his unspoken question immediately. Only barely noticeable, Chin shook his head and shrugged. Nope, he didn't have a clue what airfield the guy was talking about either.

"Not good enough," Danny barked. Even he knew that Kamehameha Highway was too freaking long for them to go looking for Steve without more information than this. He kept the sig trained on the guy's head. Maybe. It was kind of hard to aim when you were seeing two of everything.

"I don't know where exactly it is, okay." The guy was terrified. "Th- there are instructions on my phone. Please, that's all I know."

With a jerk of his head – and damn, he shouldn't have done that because, a, it fucking hurt and, b, the world around him started spinning all of a sudden, making him nauseous and dizzy – Danny indicated to Chin to put the cuffs back on the guy. He didn't even put up any resistance, just flinched away a little, when the cuffs clicked around his wrists.

Using his entire body, Chin shoved the man against the car once more. "We'll be back for you if you lied to us."

And shit, Chin could be all kinds of scary if he wanted to.

* * *

><p>"We're so getting fired for this." Edith heaved a sigh and ran a hand through her hair, not bothering that she was tearing her bun apart in the process.<p>

"We're not the ones threatening to shoot people," Bix said from behind her.

"But we are the ones who are watching and not doing anything about it, so-" She sighed again.

"Well, then stop looking."

"I can't."

"Right, forgot who I was talking to."

Edith frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

She growled in frustration. "Hey, why don't you go looking for that Officer Kalkwa and be annoying around her? I know you want to."

"Her name is Kal-a-kau-a," Bix said, pronouncing each syllable. "It means 'day of battle'."

"When, in all this, did you have the time to wikipedia her name?"

"I can multitask."

"Great, so you're better at being a woman than I am. That's . . . not surprising at all."

Bix just ignored the comment. "Did you know that Kalakaua was also the last name of the last reigning king of the Kingdom of Hawai'i?"

"No. I did not know that. But thanks for the . . . useless trivia."

"Maybe she's a princess."

"Maybe you should ask her about it." Hopefully she'll rip your head off for it.

"Hey Conrad!" Kelly suddenly yelled, sticking his head through the door of the warehouse. "You got a second, brah?"

Edith stared at him.

"Sure thing, man," Bix replied, grinning widely at Edith and patting her on the back (making her stumble, almost knocking her over with that gigantic paw of his. Thanks for that, Lurch) before he started walking towards the door.

"What are you, making friends now?" Edith hissed in a whisper so that Kelly couldn't hear her, hurrying to catch up with her partner.

"You jealous?"

"No," was her far too quick answer, because . . . yes, kind of. She huffed. "Traitor."

"You _are _jealous." She could practically hear his satisfied grin.

"Am not. And besides, does your new _buddy_ know that you wanna get into his sister's pants?"

"They're cousins."

"Same difference."

"It's not."

"On this island, it is."

"Doesn't matter. Chin likes me."

Oh, so it's _Chin_ now. "Because he doesn't know you."

Bix ignored her. Again. "What's up, man?" he asked Kelly as they walked through the door of the warehouse.

"We got a lead on a location for McGarrett. All I gotta do is figure out where HPD put these guys' cell phones." With a wave of his hand, Kelly indicated the lot behind them, which was buzzing with well-organized chaotic activity by now. "Could you guys keep an eye on Danny for me for a sec?"

Edith looked up and saw Williams leaning heavily against the squad car with his back, digging the heels of his palms firmly into his eye sockets and trying to breathe evenly.

"I think he's coming off of the adrenaline rush fast and I don't want him to pass out and hit his head again," Chin said, looking over his shoulder to his partner himself now. "Maybe you could take him back to Kono and Grace, they're waiting over at my truck."

"Sure thing, man," Bix said, his whole face lighting up at the mention of _Kono's_ name.

Barf.

And then he fist-bumped Kelly.

Since when was Conrad Bixler the socially competent one anyway?

Kelly hurried away and when Bix looked after him for a brief moment, eyes glazed, mouth slightly agape, it hit Edith. "You have a huge, epic crush on the entire task force, don't you?"

"What?" Bix asked, snapping out of his state of awe. Or something. "Oh, come on, don't be ridiculous, Edie."

"I'm not the one being ridiculous."

Bix gave her a serious look but then a sheepish smile spread across his face. "Come on, you gotta admit that they're kind of awesome."

"You and I, we gonna need to have a conversation about your definition of the term 'awesome', but now is not the time." Because out of the corner of her eye, Edith could see Williams hunching forward and then doubling over, like he was getting ready to puke. "Detective, are you okay?" she asked loudly and hurried to him.

"Woah, Danny, take it easy man!" Bixler was next to him in a flash and – really, _Danny?_ – when did those two have time to become best buds?

* * *

><p>With Grace settled on her hips, her head slumped over her right shoulder, snoring softly, Kono watched – admittedly with some concern – as the big and creepy FBI agent slowly maneuvered Danny in their direction. He was more than a little wobbly on his feet and she could see that big creepy guy was fighting the urge to just throw him over his shoulder and carry him the rest of the way.<p>

"Hey brah," Kono said in a whisper, careful to not interrupt Grace's well needed nap. "How you holding up?"

Danny just gave her a look as he plopped down into the passenger seat of the car with a groan. "Grace?" he asked, resting his head against the door frame.

"She's good. Sleeping like baby," Kono assured him and softly rubbed a hand over Grace's back.

"Good, that's good," Danny sighed and closed his eyes. "We got a lead, Chin's checking up on . . . something."

"Hi."

Swallowing hard, Kono looked up at Agent Bixler and scrunched up her face, acknowledging his presence with the most unpleasant smile she could manage. Then she turned her attention back to Danny, because even if he was in the process of passing out on her right now, she'd still pretend to have the most interesting conversation with him because there was just no way in hell she'd entertain big creepy guy until Chin was back.

"Hey Danny," she called softly, trying not to wake and alarm Grace but keeping Danny awake at the same time. "What kind of a lead?"

Two sleepy eyes (with blasted pupils) looked up at her. "Hm?"

"What's the lead?"

"Lead?"

Oh, come on, Williams. For a guy who's usually tough to shut up, he was leaving her hanging badly right now. "The lead Chin's checking? What is it?"

"Airfield," Danny managed to slur. "Some'ere off Kame…hame…ha."

"The new one near Kaaawa Valley?"

"Huh?"

"Danny," Kono said a little louder as his eyes slid shut again. "What airfield?"

"Chin's tryna fine'out."

"Hey Danny, come on, stay with me," Kono urged for purely selfish reasons as she glanced nervously in Bixler's direction.

"Jusss rest'n mah eyes." With that, he sagged back against the backrest of the passenger seat, legs still sticking out of the car's door. "Grace?"

"She's still good, brah," Kono told him again and put a reassuring hand on his right shoulder.

Danny wasn't looking so good and it wasn't entirely his swollen nose's fault. He was pale and sweaty and seemed generally pretty out of it. "Hey, Agent Bixler, could you please get one of the paramedics over here?" Kono asked with a smile, pleased with herself that she had found a way to get Danny some much needed help and get rid of Bixler at the same time. Two birds, one stone . . . she was just that good at killing stuff.

"Already here," announced Agent Lake, seemingly coming out of nowhere with a particularly cute paramedic in tow. "I took the liberty, since Detective Williams just puked his guts out back there," she explained, jerking a thumb into the direction of the squad car holding their five bad guys.

Just great how well these two FBI douche bags are working together.

* * *

><p>While the paramedic checked Danny over again, Kono kept walking Grace in circles around the car, just to keep moving. She was afraid that if she'd stop, big creepy guy would start talking to her again. Normally, she'd just punch him out, alone for the way he was staring at her right now (and even though he was twice her size, she could totally take him) but just not right now; not with a sleeping Grace clinging to her, drooling on the back of her shirt.<p>

"How's he doing?" she asked the paramedic as she came around the passenger side of the car again.

"'m fine."

Kono stopped and ducked to peek inside the car around the paramedic who was crouched down in front of Danny – and, damn, really kind of cute. Tall, local with dark, messy hair. Totally her kind of guy. "Good to see you awake, brah," she said with a huge, relieved smile to Danny.

"Never was 'sleep."

"Yeah, sure. So how's he really doing?"

The paramedic got back up and snapped the latex gloves of his hands, returning her smile. "Nauseous, dizzy, grumpy, but that's all to be expected with a concussion. The nose looks pretty bad but I don't think it's broken. He should still let us take him back to the ER and get it checked out properly."

"I'll try to convince him."

"He definitely needs some rest," the paramedic added and grabbed his equipment. "I'll get this stuff back to the bus," he said, holding up his bags. "Just holler if he changes his mind."

"Will do," Kono said, smiling again, because really, that was one handsome paramedic. "I'm Kono, by the way," she added, sticking out her hand from underneath Grace's bum while acrobatically supporting her weight with her arm instead.

"Pika," he said, awkwardly shaking her hand.

"Conrad."

. . .

Yeah. Maybe she could punch out Bixler with Grace draped over her shoulder after all. They were both about to find out.

"I got it!" Chin called, coming running towards them. "They're at a new airfield near Kaaawa Valley."

"What took you so long to come up with that one?" Kono asked, all thoughts of Bixler and even Pika wiped from her mind at the hope of being a good step closer to finding the boss.

"What do you mean?" Chin asked with a frown.

"Do you know any other airfields off Kamehameha?"

"I didn't even know about that one," Chin admitted with a shrug. "It's still in construction."

"I know. There's a huge debate going on about the effects an airfield might have on the animals indigenous to that area."

Chin just stared at her.

"When did you stop caring about the environment, cuz?"

"'s soon as you two are done debating this I'd like to get going and save Steve's idiotic ass."

They all – including Pika – stared at Danny as he hauled himself out of the car, swayed dangerously on wobbly legs and then almost toppled over. For once, Kono was glad Bixler stuck to her like glue because that meant he was close enough to firmly grab Danny's arm and shoulder and guide him to sit back down in the car.

"You're not going anywhere, brah," Chin said with a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Chin." Danny gave him a very serious look.

"Danny?"

"He's in this mess because of me," he argued with a tired sigh and Kono thought that, yeah, maybe they should just take him with them. They'd save themselves the debate and chances were pretty good he'd fall asleep in the car on their drive over there anyway.

"He's in this mess because he's Steve and doesn't know how to stay out of messes," Chin said and crouched down next to Danny. "I'm sorry to break this to you, brah, but in your condition you're a liability."

"Besides," Kono said, stepping up next to Chin, "someone needs to stay with Grace."

Danny looked up at her, raising his eyebrows.

". . . and I'm going with Chin," she added, answering the unspoken question.

Danny turned his head to the left, looking at Lake now with the same pleading expression on his messed up face.

It took Lake a second to realize what Danny was asking her. "Oh," she finally said, blinking at him. "Oh no, she . . . she totally hates me." Lake gestured towards Grace and smiled helplessly. It was the truth, though, Grace actually did kind of hate her (not that Kono would blame the little girl for it). When she had met up with Lake down in the pit after the exchange, Grace had been wailing miserably, refusing to let woman who had made her Uncle Steve go with the bad men touch her.

Heaving a sigh, Danny shrunk back into the car's seat. "Alright, go," he finally said, holding out his arms and Kono carefully set Grace down on his lap. "Just . . ."

"Don't worry, brah, will get him back," Chin said, slapping Danny's shoulder and standing back up.

Danny just nodded, closed his eyes and rested his cheek on Grace's head.

Looking at Danny and Grace for a moment – both exhausted and in dire need of some rest – Chin turned around to the FBI agents. "Mind if we take your car?"

"Let's go," Bixler said with a nod and he and Lake started hurrying over to their black SUV parked a few feet away.

Chin went to the back of his truck, grabbing their vests and weapons from the trunk.

"Hey Pika," Kono said, smiling at the paramedic who was still standing close by, the bags with his equipment still in his hands. "Could you do me a favor and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," she said, gesturing towards Danny and Grace behind her. "Like trying to get up or anything."

Pika smiled back at her and nodded. "Sure thing."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it." She turned around to grab her gear from Chin's trunk.

"Hey Kono?" Pika called behind her.

"Yeah?"

"You sure you're not gonna need some backup?" he asked, holding up one of his bags.

Shaking her head, Kono smiled, trying not to think about the fact that – with McGarrett and his already concussed head involved – they probably would need some medical help. She almost managed to completely ignore the possibility that the boss might be well beyond needing medical help by now just as well. "It's too dangerous."

"I like dangerous."

Of course he does. Because he's flawless.

"We're gonna have an ambulance standing by anyway, so . . ."

"Right."

"But thanks for the offer."

"Sure."

Smiling, Kono turned back around to Chin who, apparently, had been watching her. He held out her vest and opened his mouth to make some stupid comment.

"Not a word," Kono growled. Staring at him, she grabbed her weapon from Chin's hand and chambered a bullet in order to press her point home. "Let's move," she ordered and they both jogged over to the SUV were Bixler and Lake waited for them.

* * *

><p>He screamed.<p>

And screamed.

Because there wasn't really a point in pretending it didn't hurt like fucking hell to have your fingers broken one by one. There was no point in putting up a tough front. He didn't need to convince Fuentes that the pain wasn't getting to him. On the contrary, he needed Fuentes to know that this shit hurt badly. That he was going to get the information he wanted soon . . . that there was no need to move on to more drastic measures of torture.

And besides, he was still trying to keep up the impression that he was Matt Williams, not a Navy SEAL who had been trained to compartmentalize the pain away. And, no offense to the guy, but Steve was pretty sure that Matty would have been screaming like a little bitch by now.

The only thing that made screaming out at the pain in his hand seem like a bad idea, was the fact that it fucking hurt to even draw in a normal breath, let alone suck in enough air for a full blown scream.

Before Fuentes had moved on to breaking the pinky and ring finger on his left hand, he had hit him. A lot. And hard. He had been working out his anger and frustration over the busted nose. And somewhere along the way, he must have managed to break the already cracked rib.

Oh yeah, judging by the way it hurt, he'd definitely broken it good. Probably cracked a few more in the process.

"Where is it?" Fuentes hissed. Again. At some point, Steve had stopped counting how many times the man had asked for that ominous flash drive by now.

"Go to hell," Steve panted through gritted teeth.

With a nod of his chin, Fuentes ordered the goon gripping Steve's left arm to raise it a little higher again. Steve struggled, again, against the man's hold, but the guy was strong and he himself was not exactly operating at a hundred percent right now.

Fuentes grabbed his middle finger and Steve grunted in pain as the man's hand jostled the already broken bones in his hand. "Tell me where it is."

Still panting, his chest heaving with every shallow breath, Steve just stared blankly ahead, trying to prepare himself for the imminent pain.

"You can end all this right now."

Steve just closed his eyes. Because he really couldn't. Granted, telling Fuentes who he really was would probably expedite his suffering . . . but knowing Fuentes – and yes, he was getting to know the guy pretty well here – he'd probably be too pissed to just put a bullet through his head.

Fuentes' grip on his finger tightened before he snapped it back, breaking it.

Steve screamed. Again.

"TELL ME WHERE IT IS!" The voice droned in Steve's already pounding head as he tried to get his breathing back under control.

But Fuentes didn't even give him any time to recover or answer the question. Pushing his goon away from Steve with a frustrated shove, he drew back his arm and punched Steve in the face again, hitting his jaw and making his head snap to the side. Steve almost didn't feel it, the pain his hand still too prominent in his brain, blocking out everything else.

He let his head hang, chin dropping to his chest. He coughed weakly and spat as blood and saliva began trickling down his throat. Fuck. Fuentes was getting impatient. He was so screwed. Even if only his right hand was still cuffed to the chair, his left one just wasn't much use right now.

Then, he heard an all too familiar clicking sound. Without lifting his head, Steve opened his eyes and glanced up to where Fuentes stood right in front of him, gun in his hand.

Shit.

**-to be continued-**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **First off, sorry for the late update! I wanted to have this chapter up yesterday but it turned out to need more editing than I expected... Anyway. Thank you SO MUCH for reading and reviewing the last chapter. I really can't say how much I appreciate the great feedback! THANK YOU!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

Everything looked quiet. Too fucking quiet.

Looking through a pair of binoculars, Kono squinted her eyes, trying to see any kind of movement inside the open, unfinished hangar at what was supposed to become the GXO airfield. Not if the locals had anything to say about it.

She sighed when nothing moved in the darkness. No sign of Fuentes. No sign of Steve.

What if they were too late?

"How do you wanna do this?" the SWAT team leader, Franks, asked Chin, leaning against the side of their truck. They had two units right behind them and another one coming around back, from the mountainside.

"Any suggestions?" Chin asked, staring at the construction site half a mile on front of them.

"Well, given the fact that there's no movement at all we can't be sure that anyone's even still there." The guy shrugged casually, probably not aware of what was at stake here. "I say we go in big."

"This is not just a take down," Chin reminded Franks, "we may still have a man in there."

"I am aware of that. But it's a wide open space, not enough cover to surprise them. If anyone's home, they're gonna see us coming as soon as we set foot in there."

"Alright," Chin decided with a nod. "Let's go."

With that, Bixler started up the car. Franks headed back to the first SWAT truck and they all drove towards the hangar, hoping they wouldn't just find Steve's dead body in there.

They went the last couple hundred yards by foot and then positioned themselves on both ends of the open side of the building. What was left of Five-0, plus Bixler (who was responsible for Lake staying behind to watch the cars) on the right, the SWAT guys on the left. They were ready to move in, but decided to wait until the unit that was supposed to cover the back of the building was in position.

The plan, however, quickly changed when a muffled but familiar sound sliced through the silence.

A gunshot.

Chin, taking up the front on their side, gave the signal to move in, not bothering to wait for the third SWAT team that was still a few minutes out.

About a hundred yards into the hangar stood the black SUV. It looked abandoned, but then it was too dark to really see anything. Kono, like everyone else, only realized that there was someone inside the car when a muzzle flash flared up in the distance and a shot rang out. Followed by another and another. Bullets hit the wall behind them and everyone ducked as if on command.

SWAT coming in from the other side returned fire and the shooter went down seconds later.

They quickly closed in on the SUV, Kono's eyes searching for a sign of Steve – or anyone else – but there was nothing. Just darkness.

Then, suddenly, a door on the right side just behind the SUV opened and three guys poured out into the open, firing on them. Two with hand guns, one with an SMG. Kono dove behind the SUV for cover, Chin and Bixler slamming into side of the car next to her seconds later.

Even though one of their attackers managed to knock down one of the SWAT guys with a lucky shot to the vest, the bad guys never really stood a chance against two full units of HPD's finest. It took SWAT only a few seconds to take out the three men, and as soon as Franks gave them the 'all clear', Kono, Chin and Bixler broke cover and hurried towards the door the three guys had come through.

Kono felt something clench inside her chest. This was going just a little too well. Things were never this easy with Steve McGarrett.

Ask Danny.

She and Chin positioned themselves on the right side of the door, Bixler and two SWAT guys took the left. The door stood a few inches ajar, a faint light shining through the cracks. With a nod, Chin gave the signal. He stepped in front of the door and kicked it down. Gun first, Kono dove around the corner and stepped into the room, closely followed by Bixler and Chin.

And there was Steve.

He sat slumped in a chair, listing to the left, head hanging lowly. For a moment, Kono thought for sure he was dead. But then his head was yanked up and he was looking right at her, panting slightly. Fuentes was behind him, crouched down, using him as a shield, gun firmly pressed against the right side of Steve's head.

He looked terrible. His face was smeared with blood still oozing from the reopened cut on his forehead. The left eye was almost swollen shut and there were fresh bruises along his jaw. His left arm hung limply from his shoulder, twitching with tremors. Kono bit down hard on her bottom lip when she saw the reason. His hand was a mess, fingers bent at unnatural angles and shit, that had to hurt like hell. But her major concern right now was the all that blood running down the leg of the chair and forming a small puddle underneath it. It took her a second to find its source in the dim light of the small room, but eventually, she spotted the gunshot wound in his left thigh.

Shit indeed. Steve needed some help and fast, before he bled to death right in front of them.

"One step closer and he's dead," Fuentes hissed. He let go of Steve's hair and brought his arm around his neck.

"You're done, Fuentes. Give up," Chin ordered, and Kono wondered how her cousin could keep it together enough to sound as calm and determined as he did. As he always did. Damn, she was glad Chin was around right now.

"Back the fuck up!"

"Alright." Chin raised one hand in front of him in an effort to defuse the tense situation a little.

"I want everyone out of here, right now!"

"And then what?"

Fuentes didn't have an answer.

"This place is swarming with SWAT, man," Chin tried to reason with him. "You're not getting out of here."

"Then neither is Williams," Fuentes spat and dug the gun deeper into the side of Steve's head.

Steve's head, that suddenly lolled forward, chin dropping as far as Fuentes' forearm around his neck would allow. Kono thought he was passing out now, from the blood loss, but then he sucked in a shallow breath and she could see the muscles in his neck and jaw tighten.

"Well," Steve said through gritted teeth, his head still hanging lowly, "lucky for me I'm not Matt Williams."

"What?" Fuentes hissed, confusion evident in his voice.

"It's Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett, Five-0." And with that, Steve jerked his head back, slamming it into Fuentes' face right behind him.

Kono could hear the crunching of bones and Fuentes stumbled backwards before he dropped down on his ass. The gun clattered to the ground and before he could cover his broken and heavily bleeding nose with his hands, Bixler plus the two SWAT guys were on top of him him, throwing him face down on the ground, paying no mind to the man's injury or screaming.

Kono immediately crouched down next to Steve. She heard Chin call for a medic before he started working to get Steve's right hand free from where it was cuffed to the backrest of the chair.

"Hey, boss, it's good to see you," Kono said with tight smile, her eyes going directly to the gunshot wound in his upper thigh. There was still a good amount of blood oozing from the wound with each beat of Steve's heart. Without anything to stop the bleeding with, Kono used her bare hands to press down on both sides of the through and through, eliciting grunt from Steve. "Sorry, boss," she said, wincing in sympathy at the pain she was causing him. "But we can't have you bleed to death before Danny gets his hands on you."

Steve panted, trying to get his labored breathing back under control. He swallowed a couple of times and gritted his teeth. "Danny . . . Grace?"

"Don't worry, boss. They're both fine, they're safe."

Steve visibly relaxed now. He breathed out a relieved sigh and let his chin drop to his chest, eyes sliding shut again.

"Hey, boss, stay with me," Kono urged as he seemed to lose his battle with consciousness. She wanted to do something to rouse him, like tap gently on his cheek. But with both her hands pressing against the hole in his leg, she didn't have a choice but to simply press down a little harder.

Steve grunted in pain. "Jesus, Kono," he wheezed, dropping his head back.

"Sorry boss, but no sleepin' on the job." She tried to smile at him but the warmth of his blood running through her fingers made her nauseous. Where were those goddamn medics?

"Chin, you gotta hurry, I can't get the bleeding under control."

"Doing what I can, cuz," he mumbled from behind Steve, a hint of tension audible in his voice. Shit, if Chin was showing worry then things must be really fucking bad.

He was still working on the cuffs, trying to get Steve's hand free. They needed to get him down on the ground and elevate the leg over his heart. That would definitely help to slow the bleeding. "Hey," Chin called to one of the SWAT guys, "go see if you can find me some bolt cutters!"

The guy just nodded and disappeared from the room.

"Hey, guys, how's it going in here?"

Finally. The paramedics were here.

"Not so good," Kono informed them, keeping her hands on the wound. "He's lost a lot of blood," she added, unnecessarily, because anyone could see that the pool of blood she was kneeling in wasn't her own.

"Alright, keep your hands where they are," the older of the two told her. "We need to get him off this chair."

"Working on it," Chin said, sounding almost apologetic for not having made better progress on the cuffs.

"Alright," the paramedic said and tapped Steve's cheek. "Commander McGarrett? Can you hear me?"

"Hmmm?"

Apparently satisfied with the answer – if you could call it that – the paramedic slid a hand in the crease between Steve's leg and torso, pressing down hard. Again, Steve let out a pained groan.

"I'm sorry," the guy apologized, "I need to apply pressure to the femoral artery; it's gonna slow the bleeding until we can get you off this chair."

Yeah, as if Steve's concussed head was able to process the complexity of that piece of information right now.

The SWAT guy finally brought the bolt cutters. In a matter of seconds, Chin had Steve's hand free and then helped the paramedics get him off the chair and lying down on the ground.

After that, everything was a blur to Kono. At some point, she was asked to take her hands off Steve's leg and it took her a good minute – and some convincing from Chin – to comply. She had been literally holding his goddamn life in her bare hands for god knows how long. She was allowed need a second to realize that it really was okay to let go now. That he was in good hands. Safe.

Maybe.

Kono watched as the paramedics got Steve ready for transport and Chin told her to ride in the ambulance with him, promising he'd be right behind them. As soon as he had handed over the scene to HPD. Or the FBI. Or the DEA. Whoever wanted it could have it. Kono knew that Chin wanted to be with the rest of the team right now, too, making sure their ohana was going to be okay.

* * *

><p>One should think he was getting used to this. Especially with Steve McGarrett for a partner.<p>

Being the worrier.

Back in Jersey, he had been the one who had caused the worry. And it had been part of the reason why things eventually hadn't worked out between him and Rachel.

Now, sitting in some ER in freaking Hawaii, waiting for his partner to be brought in with a bad case of blood loss, he suddenly understood his ex-wife that much better.

And he and Steve weren't even married.

But being partners was basically the next best thing, considering all the time they were spending together. Considering how close they had gotten in the past year.

With a sigh, Danny glanced at his watch again. Wow, an entire minute had passed since he'd last checked it. Time was practically flying. Chin had called him forever ago, telling him that they had found Steve – alive, but with a profusely bleeding gunshot wound in his leg – and that he was on his way to the hospital.

Frustrated about how long seconds were these days, he started pacing up and down in front of his assigned ER bed, on which Grace was currently curled up and fast asleep.

"You should sit down, you know," Pika told him, looking up from the magazine he was reading, sitting in a chair next to the bed. The guy had stuck to him like glue ever since Kono had so sweetly asked him to. And Danny personally blamed him for the huge, ridiculous looking bandage covering his nose right now. It wasn't even broken. Just badly bruised and occasionally leaking blood. No big deal. Yet, the paramedic had somehow managed to convince the hospital staff to run every possible test on him. Lots of scans and poking and prodding had ensued until not one but three doctors had eventually agreed on a diagnosis. Concussion but no fractures, nose or otherwise.

Yeah, Danny could have told them as much.

He shot Pika a look that usually worked just fine to shut up punks like him, but not even Grace would take him seriously right now. Not with the huge cotton balls sticking out of his nostrils. God, if he found the guy that had slammed the butt of his rifle into his face, he would definitely make him regret the day he was born.

"I'm just saying." Pika shrugged and buried his face behind his magazine (Cosmo Girl, was this guy serious?) once more. "Don't want you to start puking again."

Yeah, Danny didn't really want himself puking again either – twice was more than enough, thank you very much – but sitting down just wasn't an option right now. Sitting down and doing nothing would drive him crazy. And then some. Before he could sit down, he needed to know that Steve was going to be okay.

Suddenly, there was some commotion, doctors and nurses gathering at the front desk, putting on yellow gowns and slipping hands into latex gloves.

"Do me a favor and keep an eye on her," Danny absently said to Pika, gesturing in Grace's direction.

The guy nodded with a sympathetic smile. "Try not to get in the way too much."

Danny mostly ignored the comment and rushed, as fast as his general state of unsteadiness allowed, to the front doors to meet whoever was coming in.

Before he reached the entrance to the ER, the double doors were opened buy a gurney being pushed through. Danny stumbled a few feet back and stared as two paramedics handed his partner over to the hospital staff, rattling off stats on Steve's condition in the process. He didn't understand half of what was being said, but then he didn't really focus on the doctors either. He just stared at Steve, lying there, unmoving, with an oxygen mask partly covering his far too pale face. He looked terrible. Dark bruised covered most of the left side of his face. One of his arms was draped over his chest – his hand looking like someone had put it through a meat-grinder – and his leg was propped up on a backpack or something, pants soaked in dark red blood.

Oh shit. This looked so much worse than what Chin had made it sound like.

And it was all his fault.

Danny stood – rooted to the spot, unable to move – and watched as Steve was taken to a trauma room at the far left side of the ER. Through the windows, he could see the doctors working on him, everyone in that room moving with quick efficiency, knowing exactly what to do to save their patient's life. People kept rushing into the room, some carrying bags of blood, others came walking back out, the same blood smeared all over their yellow trauma gowns. Somehow, that made their efforts seem so . . . futile.

There was just too much blood.

Feeling his legs grow weaker again, Danny took another step back and leaned against the wall behind him. He started to slide down, eyes still fixed on the trauma room, even when the blinds were drawn shut. He only barely noticed the strong hands grabbing his left elbow, keeping him upright.

"Woah, brah, let's find you a chair or something."

Kono. Where did she come from?

After another minute or so, Danny finally managed to tear his eyes away from the trauma room and blinked up at her. She smiled, hands still firmly grasping his arm. "You ready to go sit down somewhere?"

Danny just nodded.

"Come on, they're gonna be a while anyway," Kono added and suddenly, out of nowhere, Pika was on his other side. Together, he and Kono walked him back to his bed and to Grace.

"How bad is it?" Danny asked, sitting down, his eyes somehow unable to focus on anything now that they were no longer fixed on Steve. Everything was a blur. "It looked really bad."

"He's lost a lot of blood," Kono said with a sigh and sat down beside him, putting a hand on his knee. The touch grounded him in a way. It was reassuring, in spite of what she was saying. "Took a bullet to the thigh. The paramedics said it must have nicked the femoral artery."

Danny ran a hand over his face, trying to get his eyes to work properly again. He blinked a couple of times and look up at Kono – looking at her and this time actually seeing her for the first time since she'd arrived. Seeing the blood. On the knees of her khaki pants, on her arms and hands where she had obviously tried to wipe it off, on her chin, and even in her hair where it made errand strands stick together.

"I tried to stop the bleeding," she explained, removing her hand from his leg. She must have realized he was staring at her. "Guess I should go and try to freshen up a little."

When she got up from the bed, Danny grabbed her hand to stop her. "What- what did Fuentes do to him?"

What did _I _do to him?

Kono gave his hand a squeeze and shook her head. She fully understood what he was really asking.

With a sigh, she let herself drop down onto the bed again, putting her free hand back on his knee. "It looks like _he_," – she emphasized the word, trying to tell him that this wasn't anyone's but Fuentes' fault – "tortured him. No clue why though." She paused for a moment, staring down at the blood on her pants. "He beat him, broke a few fingers. Standard . . . stuff."

Danny knew that by 'standard stuff' she meant aimed to cause pain and not life-threatening injuries. "What about the gunshot wound?" he asked, because even with his brain in standby mode he realized that nicking someone's femoral artery with a bullet was the very definition of life-threatening.

Kono shrugged. "Guess he was getting impatient. Can't really blame the guy, you of all people know how irritating Steve can be," she added, nudging his shoulder with hers, badly forcing a smile.

"No, can't really blame him." First, he had himself to blame. Then Matt. Then Steve for being a self-sacrificing idiot. Fuentes . . . he was somewhere far down the list of people who were to blame for this. He was a drug dealer. No one expected anything good from him. No one expected that they could trust him. No one expected not to be lied to by him. And no one expected Fuentes to have their back because they were partners. Friends. Family.

"Danny," Kono said, her voice soft and pleading. "Don't do this to yourself."

"I messed up and . . . and that almost got him killed." Still might, for all he knew.

"A lot of people messed up in the last couple days."

Danny heaved a sigh and silently thanked Kono. For not sugarcoating this for his benefit. For not flat-out disagreeing with him. For not trying to convince him that none of this was his fault just to make him feel better.

Maybe she was just pissed at him for causing this whole mess. "I started all this," he said, letting his head drop a little. "If I had just come to one of you guys, then-"

"Then what?"

"Then things would have been different."

"Yeah? How, Danny?" Kono's voice grew louder, colder. She was angry all of a sudden. "How would things be different? Would it be you in there fighting for your life instead of Steve?" She let go of his hand and got up off the bed to stand right in front of him. "Would you rather this was yours?"

She shoved her still blood-smeared hands in his line of sight, waiting for an answer, but he didn't know what to say. Because, yes, fuck it, it should be him in there instead of Steve. But he couldn't bring himself to say it. It seemed so . . . selfish. Because being the one taking the risks was always easier than being the one watching others do it.

"You made a choice, Danny. And you know what, it was an impossible choice to make, a fucking no win situation. I can guarantee you, if you had asked Steve for help, you'd be sitting in that exact same spot right now, blaming yourself for dragging him into all this. So stop blaming yourself. Stop feeling sorry for yourself . . . it's not gonna change anything."

With that, she turned around and left, heading for the bathroom.

* * *

><p>"He say anything?"<p>

Bix slammed the back door of the FBI truck shut, locking Fuentes inside, and ran a hand over the back of his neck. He looked about as tired as Edith felt. "Wants his lawyer first. And a CT scan," he added, tapping a finger against his nose.

Edith snorted humorlessly. "I guess we're lucky if he doesn't claim to have brain damage and not remember any of this."

"This guy, he'll probably try to sue McGarrett for the head bud."

"Yeah," Edith agreed with a smile. Fuentes probably would. If he got the chance. "Have you heard anything?" she asked softly, remembering the unnatural paleness of McGarrett's face when he had been rushed to the ambulance about half an hour earlier. "About McGarrett, I mean," she clarified, eyes glancing in the direction of the small room in which Fuentes had been holding him. The room with all the blood on the floor.

"Nah," Bix replied, shaking his head, absently looking down to the cell phone in his hand. Checking if maybe he had missed the call.

Edith leaned against the side of the truck and sighed, dropping her head against the cold surface and looking up at the ceiling of the hangar. "You were in there, you saw . . ." she trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence. She cleared her throat awkwardly and turned her head to the right to look at her partner. "You think he's gonna make it?"

"I'm afraid he will," Bix said and leaned against the car, next to her, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"You're _afraid_ he'll make it? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, think about it. If he doesn't make it then there will be an opening on the Governor's task force."

Edith snorted again. "I don't know what I find more offensive, the fact that you actually want the man to die, or that you would ditch me to join this bunch of crazy people."

Because who would pick her up when she was down if he wasn't around? Like he was right now, by making some stupid comment, taking her mind off of this entire mess.

"So . . ."

"So . . . what?"

"So. Where do you think Kipton is?"

Edith shrugged. She had no idea. He could be dead for all she knew. Killed by Fuentes as soon as he had stopped being useful to him. Or maybe he was on his way to (another) tropical island, with a suitcase full of money he had been paid by Fuentes for his services. Maybe they'd never find out. "No clue, but maybe _Carlos_ can shed some light on that whole situation."

"Let's hope so," Bixler agreed, the tone of his voice bearing a rare hint of sadness. This was getting to him, too. "What about Williams comma Daniel?"

"What about him?"

"He's still technically under arrest."

"You looking for another guy to boot of the task force in case McGarrett makes it?"

"So not what I had in mind, but now that you mention it . . ."

Edith rolled her eyes. "Well, I think the guy deserves a break. I grant bail. For . . . a week."

"You're not a judge."

"My dad always wanted me to become a judge." She shrugged. "That's why they called me Edith. He always said that it would be an appropriate name. Whatever that's supposed to mean, right?"

"Right. I read in your file that Edith is just your middle name."

"Oh god."

"Fantasia? Really? He think that's judge-appropriate, too?"

Edith cringed. "My mom was an artist – in the most general sense of the word. Clearly, she also wanted me to follow in _her_ footsteps."

"That's . . . disturbing."

"Try growing up with that name. My entire childhood has been one huge, disturbing experience."

"Explains a lot."

"Don't make me hurt you."

After a moment of silence, Bix nudged her in the side. "You ready to get out of here?"

She nodded. "Yup, definitely."

"You wanna go to the hospital? We can have someone else take Fuentes to the field office."

"Nah, let's finish this first," she said, slapping a hand against the side of the truck, determined to get some answers from the man inside. "Besides, after that comment from before, I just don't trust around McGarrett anymore."

* * *

><p>Chin knocked a few times on the women's bathroom door, before he carefully and very slowly pushed it open a little, peeking inside. "Kono?"<p>

"You can come in cuz, it's just me in here," she answered, standing in front of a sink across from the door, watching him in the mirror.

Looking up and down the corridor, making sure there were no other women on their way to the bathroom, Chin fully opened the door and walked inside the small space. He stopped behind Kono and silently watched her scrub her hands for a moment. "You okay?" he asked eventually.

"Fine," she muttered, scrubbing a little harder. "It's just . . . the blood . . . It just won't come off from under my fingernails."

"You look tired."

Abruptly, she shut the water down and ripped some paper towels from the dispenser. "Well I _am_ tired, Chin," she growled, rubbing her hands dry and staring at him in the mirror. "I've been awake for over forty hours now. I think I have the right to be tired."

"It was just an observation."

He watched her as she used the now damp wad of paper towels to wipe away a streak of blood from her chin. She looked a lot better now than she had at the hangar, but there wasn't much she could do about the blood on her clothes here. However, Chin knew better than to suggest to her to go back home or to HQ to grab some clean clothes. Not before they knew that Steve was gonna be okay.

"Sorry . . . for snapping at you, cuz," she said after she had finally managed to get the dried blood off her skin. She was studying her own reflection in the mirror now, looking for spots she had missed. "I just-" She sighed and leaned heavily against the sink, her gaze dropping down to her hands. "This sucks."

"Hey," Chin said, crossing the distance between them. He put a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sure Steve's been through worse than this. He'll be alright." And somehow, Chin knew that he really would be. Because Steve had inherited that single-minded McGarrett stubbornness. He was just like his father in that way. And in all the years Chin had had the privilege to call himself McGarrett senior's friend, nothing had ever been able to keep the man down.

Until Victor Hesse.

After putting a bullet through his father's head, Hesse had come after Steve. And now he was rotting away in a dark, dank prison cell in Halawa. Because unlike his father, Steve had realized that he wasn't in this fight alone. That there were people in his life he could trust, people who would be there to pick up the pieces when he couldn't. Chin was proud to know that he was one of those people. And he just knew, deep inside himself, that Steve would survive this, too. A guy like Fuentes would not be the one to break a Steve McGarrett. Because his ohana was there to pull him through.

Chin smiled at Kono in the mirror. After a little while, she smiled back.

**-to be continued-**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Alright, this is the last chapter + epilogue. It's long. But I didn't find a good way to split this part up. Enjoy reading! (more A/N at the bottom. Because there are more things I want to say.)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

Danny was uncharacteristically quiet as they sat together and waited for news on Steve's condition, but Chin decided to attribute the change in behavior to the concussion he had suffered only hours earlier. Danny sat on the bed, with Grace sleeping curled up in his arms. He was barely able to keep his eyes open and kept dozing off, but always woke up after only a few seconds, his eyes immediately searching out the direction in which Steve had been whisked off far too long ago.

Chin was grateful that the ER staff had allowed them to stay where they were and that Danny and Grace could rest in a bed instead of the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting area. Because it felt like an eternity until, finally, a short, portly man in scrubs came walking towards them.

"Y'all with, uhm, Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett?" he asked with a thick accent that Chin couldn't exactly place, reading the name off a chart he was carrying. "Wow, that's quite a mouthful now, ain't it?" The doctor looked up from the board and around the small group, smiling broadly.

"Uhm, yeah," Chin said, offering the man a hand to shake. "Chin Ho Kelly."

"I'm Doctor Walker, I was-"

"How's Steve?" Danny interrupted, scooting to the edge of the bed, clearly intending to get up and go see for himself how his partner was doing. Pika, however, who had patiently waited with them – probably hoping for a chance to score Kono's phone number or something – silently put a heavy hand on his shoulder, effectively keeping him on his ass. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"He's gonn' be just fine . . ."

". . . Detective Danny Williams," Chin supplied, a relieved smile spreading across his face.

Danny blew out a deep breath, as if a huge weight had just been lifted off his chest. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he slumped down and buried his head in his hands for a moment.

"He lost lotsa blood from that gunshot wound in his thigh and things were not lookin' all too good there for a while, but we got him stabilized eventually." Doctor Walker looked over the chart for a moment before he continued. "There was no damage to the bone so the leg should be fine in a coupla weeks, dependin' on how well the muscle heals."

"What about his hand?" Danny asked, looking up at the doctor, clearly worried again now after the initial relief of finding out that Steve was going to make it out alive at all. Permanent damage was a whole different story. "It looked pretty bad."

"Three clean breaks. We set 'em, splinted 'em and they should heal just fine." Doctor Walker smiled fondly, clearly proud of his work. He let his gaze wander over the clipboard in his hands again, mumbling something under his breath. ". . . what else do we got . . . Ah, right. Same goes for the broken rib on the left. Coupla more cracked on that side, too . . . Those are gonna be uncomfortable for a while, but on the bright side, there are no signs of internal bleedin' or anythin' messy like that."

"So . . . he's gonna be okay?" Danny asked, looking somewhat disbelieving at the physician.

"Ain't that what I told y'all right away?"

"Yes, it is," Chin agreed, shooting Danny a look. "What about his head, though?" he asked, the big bandage on Danny's nose reminding him of all the fresh bruises on Steve's face when they had found him. "He's already had a concussion before he got the crap beat out of him again tonight."

Danny gaped at him. "He what? He had a concussion _before_ this?"

"Mild, according to the doctors, but yeah," Kono told him, worry still etched on her face. "You owe me twenty bucks," she added with a tight smile.

"Well," Doctor Walker said, checking Steve's chart yet again, "scans are lookin' good; no fractures or signs of bleeds. Little bit of swellin' but that's to be expected. He should come outta this with nothin' but one helluva headache, but we won't know for sure 'til he wakes up."

"When _will _he wake up?" Danny asked, looking ready to start struggling against Pika's firm grip on his shoulder to get up and finally go see Steve.

"That's tough to say," Doctor Walker said with a shrug. "We had to put'im under to fix up the leg and set the fractures, but that should've worn off by now. His body's gonna need lotsa rest to recover though, so he might just as well be out of it for a while." He glance at the people standing and sitting in front of him again and squinted his eyes a little. "Y'all look mighty tired. Maybe it's best if you go home, get a good night's sleep and come back in the morning."

Nice try, Chin thought as Danny swatted away Pika's hand and uncoordinatedly shuffled himself off the bed, mindful not to disturb Grace who was sleeping through all of this peacefully, but with great determination nonetheless. There was no way in hell Danny was gonna go anywhere before he had seen for himself that Steve was going to be fine.

"Can we see him?"

Doctor Walker pursed his lips while he watched Danny stand on wobbly legs for a moment. "Well, he ain't gonna be great company for a while-"

"He never is," Danny muttered under his breath and, judging by the way his face suddenly turned a little redder, Chin suspected that the comment had been just a reflex. Smiling to himself, he shook his head a little. It felt good to know that _everything_ was going to be just fine, no matter how much Danny was blaming himself for what had happened.

"- but, sure, why not. I'll have a nurse show you to his room 'soon as we got him settled. Don't overdo it, though, Detective. Looks like ya both need some rest."

"Thank you, Doctor Walker." Chin shook the man's hand again. "We won't be too long."

"Alright," the man said and smiled at them again. "Well folks, it was nice meetin' y'all." With a nod of his head, he turned around and left.

* * *

><p>A few minutes later, a nurse pushing an empty wheelchair arrived and – to everyone's surprise – Danny put up almost no resistance when she told him that he was going in the chair to see Steve, or not at all. Doctor's orders.<p>

With Grace still sleeping on the ER bed, Chin offered to stay with her while Danny and Kono went to see Steve and Danny accepted gratefully. Kono, on the other hand, just shot him a knowing look, making clear to him that she was onto his plan. Chin would wait until Danny could be convinced that Grace was better off sleeping the rest of the night in her own bed and then make Kono drive the two of them home. As soon as everyone else was gone, Chin would find himself a comfortable chair and sit with Steve for the rest of the night, making sure he wasn't alone when he woke up in the morning.

Chin watched Kono wheel Danny down the corridor and sat down next to Grace. He pulled his cell phone out and sighed. There were some difficult calls to be made. Mary would be worried, even though he was now able to assure her that her brother was going to be okay. Then there was the Governor. She would definitely be pissed and he'd rather let Steve deal with her . . . but then the boss had been through enough already. And who knew when he'd be coherent enough to make that call himself.

Chin wasn't entirely sure whether he should give Catherine Rollins a call. Her and Steve's relationship status was a bit of a mystery to everyone. But he figured that it couldn't hurt putting her in the loop either. For all he knew, the two could have a date planned some time in the near future and she'd only be worried if Steve just didn't show.

Then there were the two FBI agents. Conrad Bixler had asked Chin to give him a call as soon as there was any news.

And Rachel. Yeah, no way in hell.

So Chin pulled out Bixler's business card from his pants pocket. But before he started dialing, he decided to take pity on Pika. On the back of one of his own cards, he quickly scribbled Kono's name and phone number. She would probably kill him for it but Chin thought the guy deserved a little reward for all the trouble they had caused him tonight. "Here you go, brah" he said with a smile, handing the card over. "Just give her a couple of days."

Pika accepted the card with a huge grin. "Thanks, man," he said and slapped Chin on the shoulder. "I really appreciate this. I mean, I felt like it wasn't really a good time to ask her, but I didn't just wanna leave either, you know. She's a really cool girl. And it was kind of nice hanging with you guys. I mean, despite the circumstances and all. Obviously. I'm really glad your friend is gonna be okay."

"Thanks," Chin said, a little taken aback, "for everything."

"Yeah, sure man," Pika said nodding, looking down at the card in his hands. "I'm gonna get out of here then . . . if you don't need me anymore. I mean, if you wanna go check on your friend too, I can totally watch her for a while," he offered, gesturing towards Grace.

"I don't think it's a good idea to have her waking up with no familiar face around. But thanks for the offer."

"Sure, man. Sure. Alright, see you around, brah." He slapped Chin on the shoulder again and left.

* * *

><p>He was back in the bright room again. He could tell even before he opened his eyes.<p>

Great. Waking up in a hospital room two days in a row was just . . . great.

He felt different this time, though. Number. Like he was wrapped in a big wad of fluffy cotton or floating in the ocean. He could even feel the waves. Hear them crashing on the shore . . . calling his name.

Wait a second.

"Hey, Steve, you awake?" He knew that voice.

Taking a deep breath, Steve squinted his eyes and then carefully tried to open them, one by one. The left didn't seem to fully cooperate, but given the blurriness of his vision he didn't really think it would've made much of a difference.

There was someone in his line of sight, hovering above him, and Steve squinted again to try and make his eyes focus a little more.

Dark hair, huge smile.

"Chin?" he asked, his voice sounding raspy and hoarse. He absently tried licking his parched lips but his tongue was heavy and dry.

"Yeah, brah. It's good to see you awake." He smiled again and turned away for a moment. "Here, take a couple of sips," he told him, holding a cup with a straw to his mouth.

Steve accepted the offer and didn't even try to move one of his arms to hold the cup himself. Everything below his brain was still feeling nicely floaty and detached and he wasn't sure his arm would even move in the right direction if he tried. He took a few sips – small ones, he knew the drill – and, good lord, that was one delicious cup of water.

"Thanks," he said, the word leaving his throat with much more ease now that he had emptied the entire cup. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Chin press the call button before he settled himself in a chair next to the bed.

"How're you feeling?"

"Good."

Chin chuckled and shook his head.

"Don't feel much of anything, actually," Steve clarified.

"Yeah, they got you on the good stuff."

"Danny and Grace okay?" He vaguely remembered Kono telling him that they were safe, but he needed to hear it again, just to make sure he hadn't dreamed that part.

"They're fine. At home and resting." Steve only barely felt the reassuring hand Chin put on his shoulder. He let his eyes slide close again and sucked in a deep, relieved breath.

Okay, shit. That hurt.

He tried to shift in the bed, his left hand instinctively moving to where the pain was in his side.

Fuck. His hand, too?

He looked up and, for the first time, realized that his left hand and forearm were wrapped in gauze, with only the index finger and thumb sticking out.

"Try not to move so much," Chin told him and, hey, thanks for the warning. "You got three broken fingers, a broken rib and a gaping hole in your leg. All courtesy of Carlos Fuentes."

"Remind me to send flowers," Steve ground out through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the increasing dull ache in his jaw. He carefully maneuvered his injured hand to rest on his chest so that he could press the arm against his side in an effort to ease the pain a little. His body was feeling a hell of a lot less detached all of a sudden. "Where is he now?"

"FBI has got him in custody," Chin said, pressing the call button again. "They have officially taken over the case."

Steve just nodded. "Speaking of FBI custody. What about Danny?"

Chin sighed and, with a shrug, sank back into his chair. "I haven't heard anything official. Bixler said he and Agent Lake would see what they could do, but the higher-ups might still come after him. But they don't really have anything solid. Not with Kipton in the wind and with all the evidence missing."

The door opened and a pretty, young nurse came walking in. "Commander McGarrett," she greeted him with a warm smile, "it's good to see you awake again."

"Again?" Steve blinked, looking confused over to Chin. "I don't remember."

"Well, there's not much to remember," the nurse answered before Chin could say anything. "You were still pretty out of it from the anesthesia." She quickly checked the monitors next to the bed and then started fumbling around with the IV in his right hand. "I'm Joanie, by the way."

Steve just nodded. She was a little too perky and the shrill sound of her voice was aggravating his headache.

"So how are you feeling, Commander? Are you in any pain?"

"Well, I am now." He blamed the concussion for actually saying that out loud.

"Huh?" Joanie looked at him questioningly.

"Headache," Steve clarified, exchanging a look with Chin who could barely hold back a chuckle. "Other than that I feel fine as long as I don't move. Or breathe too much."

"Oh, okay. I'll let the doctor know." Joanie smiled brightly again, giving his arm a little squeeze. She then grabbed his chart from the foot of the bed and made a few notes on it. "Can I get you anything else for now? Maybe a little something to eat?"

Now that she mentioned it, he actually did feel a little hungry. "That'd be great."

"Good," she squeaked excitedly. "I'll get you a tray."

"Thanks," Steve muttered, wondering if he had made the right choice by giving her a reason to return to his room so soon.

"Chipper, isn't she?" Chin asked after Joanie had closed the door behind herself.

"That's one way of putting it."

"She's been in and out every half an hour or so, asking me if I needed anything."

"How long have you been sitting there?" Steve asked and carefully tried to push himself up on his right arm to get into a more upright position.

"Well, it's a little before noon now, so . . . about ten hours," Chin replied, glancing at his watch.

"You didn't have to stay all night," Steve said absently, surprised by how long he had been out.

"I wanted to."

"Thanks. I really appreciate it." The gesture meant a lot. Not only was it nice to wake up to a familiar face and to know that there were people who care about him. He was glad that someone had been there to immediately assure him that Danny and Grace were actually both fine. "And thank you for getting me out of there," he added after a short pause.

"Any time, brah. You'd do crazier things for any of us." Chin smiled. "Oh wait, you already did."

Steve snorted. "How mad is Danny?"

"Danny's never really mad at you, brah, he just worries really loudly."

"Right."

There was knock on the door and a moment later, Kono's head peeked inside the room. Her face lit up with a huge, dimply smile when she saw him awake. "Hey boss, howzit?" she grinned and walked into the room. "You up for some visitors yet?"

"Hey Kono." He smiled back at her. "Come on in."

She sat down on the edge of his bed and put a hand on his right leg. "How're you feeling?"

"Not too bad, actually." With Joanie out of the room, the headache had almost disappeared again and, since he was carefully not to move too much, he didn't really feel any of the other injuries either.

"Good, cause Danny's on his way over here."

"Great," Steve said sarcastically, even though he was actually looking forward to seeing him and getting first hand confirmation that he was, in fact, okay.

"Hey, Chin," Kono said, turning around to him. "Did you give my cell number to anyone last night?"

"Did I give your cell number to anyone? Why?"

"I got a bunch of really weird texts this morning, all from the same number, which I don't recognize. You didn't by any chance give my number to a certain new FBI buddy of yours, huh?"

Steve could swear he saw Chin blow out a small, relieved breath. "I did not give your number to Agent Bixler, if that's what you're suggesting." He got up from his chair and put a hand on Steve's shoulder again, giving it a light squeeze. "I'm sorry, but I got to go. The Governor wants a word in person."

That didn't sound good but judging by the look on Chin's face he would much rather answer Jameson's questions about the case right now than answer to Kono about the phone number thing.

"Sorry you're gonna be the one catching the heat," Steve said, putting his uninjured right hand on Chin's, silently thanking him for taking over his responsibilities.

"Don't worry about it. I'll see you later."

"He's hiding something," Kono said after Chin had left the room. "And I swear to god, if he gave my number to that creepy FBI guy-"

She was cut off by another knock on the door. A moment later Joanie walked in, carrying a tray of food. "Oh, you have another visitor, how lovely," she chirped with obviously faked enthusiasm and smiled sickly sweet at Kono. "I managed to snag this for you Commander," she said, setting the tray down on the bedside table. "We actually don't start serving lunch for another half hour. I hope a fruit cup for dessert is okay. I forgot to ask whether you'd rather like pudding or Jell-o, but I figured a few vitamins would be good for you."

As if there was actually any real fruit in those fruit cups.

"We have a delicious vegetable soup on the menu today. I hope you're gonna enjoy it." She smiled brightly at him again and then looked around the room. "Aww, look at the beautiful weather outside. I'm just gonna go ahead and open up that window for you so that you can get a whiff of fresh air in here."

Her high-pitched voice was like fingernails on a chalkboard to him, making his head hurt like someone was redecorating inside it with a jackhammer.

"Alright Commander," she squeaked, "is the headache any better at all? Because Doctor Walker is in surgery right now, so it's gonna be a while until he can take a look at you. But if think you can't handle it then I can go find someone else to give you something stronger for it."

"It's fine, it's a lot better, actually," Steve lied, attempting to smile at her. At least it would be as soon as she was out of the room.

"That great news," Joanie beamed over-enthusiastically and walked to the door. Finally. "Okay then, I'm gonna let you eat your soup now. If you need anything else, just push that little button and I'll be right in." She winked at him and – with yet another bright smile – left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Wow," Kono groaned as soon as the door had clicked shut, apparently not bothering whether or not Joanie was actually out of earshot. "I'm sorry boss. If I had known you'd get stuck with her I would have just let you bleed right out. Jeez, she's giving _me_ a headache," she added, blowing out a long breath.

Steve just smiled at Kono. "I'm glad you didn't," he said quietly, putting his good hand on hers, which was still resting on his leg. "Thank you, Kono."

She smiled back at him and bit down on her bottom lip, her gaze dropping down to their hands. "You scared the crap out of me, boss," she admitted after a short pause, her voice timid and unsteady. "For a moment there I thought for sure you were gonna die."

"Hey," Steve said and gave her hand a quick squeeze, urging her to look back up at him. "I'm gonna be fine."

"Yeah, I know." She slightly shook her head as if to clear the daunting thoughts from her mind. "I'm glad," she added and looked back up at him, smiling again. But this time it looked forced, the smile not quite reaching her eyes.

"Kono, what is it?" Steve asked, not letting go of her hand.

She sighed and then chuckled sadly. "It's just . . . all that blood . . . completely ruined my favorite pair of pants."

"Right." Steve couldn't help but smile at that, even though he knew that this was not really about her pants. She was scared of losing him, scared of losing any of them. And the thought that she would probably have to face a situation like this again was terrifying to her. Hell, it was terrifying to him, too, to think that maybe next time they wouldn't be able to save one of their own. But that kind of fear just came with the territory. You never really got over it, you just learned how to deal with it better over time. And Kono was still learning.

"You mind giving me a hand with that tray? I'm starving."

"Sure." Kono slipped her hand out from under his, hopped off the bed and maneuvered the side table over the bed. "Wow, that looks really disgusting," she commented when she removed the plastic cover from the bowl of soup.

"It kind of does," Steve agreed, idly eying the thick, greenish gunk. He grabbed the spoon and carefully stirred a couple of times, afraid the whole thing would suddenly come alive and attack him.

"I'm gonna text Chin and tell him to bring by some real food later," Kono decided. "What are you in the mood for?"

Steve opened his mouth to answer, but was once again interrupted by a soft knock on the door. A moment later, it was opened and Grace's head peek around the corner. "Uncle Steve?" she asked carefully and stayed by the door, apparently unsure whether or not it was okay for her to come in.

"Hey, sweetheart," Steve smiled, relieved to see her safe and unharmed. "It's so great to see you."

She beamed at him and tentatively came walking into the room and over to the side of the bed.

A few seconds later, Danny came through the door, too, closing it behind himself. "Hey," he said, hanging back by the door and shoving both hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. He was clearly uncomfortable for some reason. There was a huge white bandage covering his nose, some bruising on the side of his jaw and a cut on his forehead.

"Hey, Danny, are you okay?" Steve couldn't help but ask, a worried frown creasing his eyebrows.

Danny just rolled his eyes but chuckled at the same time. "Am I- Yeah, I'm okay, Steven. I'm fine," he muttered and walked a few feet closer to the bed. "How- how are you doing?"

"Fine," came the automatic response, before he had even thought about it.

"You- you don't look fine. You look terrible, actually," Danny said, removing one hand from his pants pocket and waving it in the general direction of Steve's face.

"Oh, I look terrible? Have you looked into a mirror lately?"

"I have, as a matter of fact. Have you?"

"No," Steve admitted and looked over to Kono, who had slumped down in the chair Chin had previously occupied.

"Don't look at me, brah," she just said, raising up both hands defensively. "Neither of you is gonna win a beauty pageants any time soon."

"What happened to your hand?" Grace suddenly spoke up. She still stood next to the bed and looked curiously at his left bandaged hand that – now that he was sitting more up – rested across his abdomen.

"I told you, monkey," Danny said, crossing the rest of the distance to the bed and putting a hand on her head. "Uncle Steve got hurt when he fought with the bad guys."

Grace looked up at him for confirmation and Steve nodded and smiled at her, even though 'fighting with the bad guys' was kind of an overstatement. But then, Grace didn't really have to know the details.

She nodded slowly. Clearly, she wasn't buying the story. Smart kid.

"Hey, you wanna know how he really hurt his hand?" Kono asked, leaning forward in the chair to be on eye-level with Grace. "I was there."

She nodded enthusiastically.

"Well, when he was fighting with the bad guys, he hit their boss really, really hard, right in the face." She tipped against her nose and grinned up at Danny. "You really should have seen him, his nose is all crooked now."

Grace smiled. "Like Danno's?"

"Hey, my nose is not crooked."

"It is a little bit," Grace said in all seriousness.

"She's right," Kono said, still grinning at Danny. "But I can assure you, it's nowhere nearly as messed up as the bad guy's."

Grace smiled, satisfied now.

"Hey Gracie?" Kono said, getting up from the chair. "How about you and I go downstairs and see if we can find Uncle Steve a decent dessert?" She gave the fruit cup on his tray a sideways glance.

She nodded, but turned around to her dad first. "Can I?"

"Sure, monkey." Danny mouthed a 'thank you' when Kono walked past him and she gave his arm a short squeeze in return. "Bring me something, too," he added.

"Play nice, guys. Don't kill each other," Kono called over her shoulder before she and Grace left the room.

Danny walked over to the chair and, with a deep sigh, he let himself heavily plop down in it. "So, uhm, how's the leg?" he asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence and awkwardly scratched the side of his head, eying Steve's left leg that was propped up on some pillows.

"It's fine, Danny."

"Right."

"Hey, listen, Danny-"

"No," Danny cut him off, locking eyes with Steve for a moment, but then his gaze dropped to the floor. "No," he said again, his voice unsteady and unusually quiet. "First, you listen to me." He got back up again and started walking towards the window, turning his back on Steve.

From the bed, he could see Danny take a few deep breaths and run a hand through his hair. Steve felt like he _should_ say something no matter what. But he didn't know whether he should apologize for being stupid, getting himself hurt and making Danny worry about him, or if he should rather tell his partner that he had to stop blaming himself for all this, that none of this was really anybody's fault. So he decided to wait. And listen. Just like Danny wanted him to. All Danny needed to do now was start talking.

"When they took Grace from the van . . . I thought I'd never see her again." Danny stopped and wiped a hand across his face. He still didn't turn back around, just stood there, staring into the bright sky outside. "I tried to do something to stop them, but . . . I couldn't. I've never felt so helpless in my entire life. Grace, she's . . . she's the most important thing I have in the world and . . . I couldn't keep her safe." He almost chocked on the last word.

"There was nothing you could have done, Danny."

"Do you remember when we met, you and I, and I told you I came here because it was my job now to make this island a safe place for her?"

"Of course I remember."

"I've never . . . trusted anyone to keep her safe, except for myself. That's why I followed Rachel here in the first place. So, when I woke up in that van and she was just . . . gone, I-" He broke off and blew out a shaky breath, unable to finish the sentence. "I failed her."

"Danny-"

"I'm not finished. Just . . . let me get this out, okay? Please."

"Okay."

"When I came here, to Hawaii, I expected a lot of things. Bad things, mostly," he added with a humorless laugh. "But I never thought I find someone here who would so . . . stupidly and recklessly, risk his own life to keep my little girl safe."

Finally, Danny turned back around. He looked directly at Steve for a moment, unshed tears swimming in his eyes. "I don't think I'm ever going to be able to thank you for everything you've done for her, and for me, in the past two days." His eyes dropped down to the floor again and he once more buried his hands deep in the pockets of his pants. "You risked your life twice to safe hers. I got to take her home with me and tuck her into bed last night and I owe that to you. I screwed up . . . this thing with Matt . . . I didn't think about the consequences and . . . it almost cost me seeing my little girl grow up. I just . . . I don't know how I can ever make this up to her . . . or to you, or Chin and Kono."

He brought a hand up to his face, covering his mouth to try and stop himself from crying and Steve wanted nothing more than to get up and _do_ something about that. To make it better somehow. Hug him maybe. But getting up wasn't really an option for him right now, not with his leg laid up as it was and with all the wires attached to him. So words would have to do. He wasn't usually good at words, but he could try. For Danny, he could try.

"Look, Danny, I don't think you have anything to make up for. We've all made mistakes and this was definitely not the last time any of us will mess up, but . . . if you think you _do_ have to make it up to her, then just do it by being the great father for her that you have always been. I've seen you with her, how much you love her. Just . . . make sure she knows that she'll always have that. That's all she'll ever need. All she needs is you. You do your best to keep her safe and we'll be there if that's not enough."

There was so much more he wanted to say. Don't be like my dad. Don't ever think you're gonna keep her safe by pushing her away. It'll only end up hurting her more than you ever could by staying around.

But then, words were really not his thing.

"And I will personally make sure that you'll get to pay that college tuition in full."

Danny choked out a snort. "I'm gonna hold you to that," he said in earnest, sniffing his swollen nose as good as he could. "I'm sorry you got hurt," he added after a moment and slowly walked back to the chair, sitting down next to the bed again. "Grace told me you took a bullet for her."

Steve shrugged. "It was just a graze."

"That bullet from Fuentes wasn't."

"No," he admitted, looking down at his leg.

"Almost got you killed."

"Yup," Steve said absently, moving his left foot up and down to see if that hurt. It did. And Danny noticed him scrunching up his face at the pain.

"So the leg is not fine after all." Statement, not a question.

"No."

"You're quite the conversationalist, you know that?"

"Yup."

Danny just rolled his eyes at that, a hint of a smile crossing his lips.

They just sat in silence for a moment and, suddenly, Steve felt he was getting tired, still feeling the effects of the massive blood loss. But he didn't want Danny to notice, didn't want him to leave just yet. But his eyelids grew heavier with every passing second and he involuntarily slid further down in the bed.

"Hey, you look exhausted," Danny noted, looking a little worried. "You should get some rest. I- I should let you sleep. I'm gonna-"

"Stay." Steve tried to stifle a yawn. "Just . . . a few minutes."

"Yeah, sure." Danny looked a bit perplexed, but leaned back in the chair nonetheless. He closed his eyes, folded his hands over his belly and stretched out his legs.

"Hey, Steve," Danny said after a little while.

"Hmm?"

"We good?"

Stupid question.

"Yeah, Danno, we're good," Steve muttered before he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

><p>When Steve woke again it was dark in his room with only a dim light coming from a lamp on the nightstand next to the bed. He blinked a couple of times, trying to clear his vision.<p>

"Hey," a familiar voice called softly from the other side of the bed.

Steve turned his head and saw Catherine sitting in the chair next to the bed, smiling at him. She was wearing her uniform and her hair was tied back in a firm bun behind her head.

"Hey. Wh- what are you doing here," Steve stammered, surprised to see her at his bedside.

"Eating your pudding," she replied and held up a small cup and spoon. "This is really good."

"How did you-"

"Chin called me early this morning," Catherine explained, setting the pudding cup down on the side table. "He said something about a date he thinks we have planned . . .?"

"Do we?" Steve asked. He was pretty sure they didn't, but he couldn't be entirely sure with all that fog and fuzziness in his head.

"No," Catherine confirmed.

"So . . . what are you doing tomorrow?"

"That's funny." Catherine smiled, shaking her head.

"I'm serious."

"What, do you want me to spoon you chicken soup and watch you sleep all day?"

"Sounds like a great plan."

"Hmhm," she simply noted – neither confirming nor denying that they were on for tomorrow – and reached for a cup of water. Steve gratefully took a few sips when she offered it to him.

"Thanks."

They just looked at each other for a moment and Steve realized that he was really glad to have her here with him. It felt right somehow.

"You didn't have to come," he said after a while, his concussed head not able to figure out what exactly her being here meant for their relationship . . . or whatever this thing between them was.

"I wanted to," Catherine said in earnest, but then frowned a little uncertain. "I hope . . . it's okay."

"No, yeah, I mean . . . I'm glad you're here," Steve tried to assure her. He smiled, trying to make sure she understood he really meant it . . . And there was something in her eyes that told him she did.

"You want some of this?" Catherine asked, holding up the pudding cup again.

"Definitely." Steve reached for the cup but then had to realize that, with his busted left hand, he couldn't exactly hold the cup and the spoon at the same time – which made eating pudding an almost impossible task.

"You need a little help there?"

"I guess," Steve admitted with a sheepish smile.

"Come here," Catherine took the cup and spoon and started feeding him.

"Wow, I don't remember hospital food tasting this good," Steve said around a mouthful of delicious chocolate pudding.

"That's because it's not. I think Grace left it here for you." She reached for a piece of paper on the side table and handed it to him. It read 'Chocolate is my favorite, I hope you like it too'. Underneath was a small drawing of him and Grace at the beach, both wearing diving goggles and snorkels.

"I'm sorry I started eating it," Catherine apologized. "I came here right after my shift and I didn't have a chance to grab dinner on the way. Besides, I didn't expect you to wake up at all today. Your doctor was in earlier and said you needed a lot of rest and . . . that pudding just looked really, really good."

"You came here right after your shift?" Steve asked and, yeah, maybe the uniform should have been a hint. "You really didn't have to." It wasn't like he wouldn't have done the same if the situation had been reversed. But still, it surprised him a little how much she seemed to care about him. That she was sitting there next to his bed, after a long day at the base, just watching him sleep when she didn't even expect him to wake up.

"Well, I have to admit that the words 'massive blood loss' did have me a little concerned. And even though Chin assured me that you were going to be okay . . . I was worried about you." She leaned forward in the chair and gently ran a hand through his hair. "You scared me," she added quietly.

"Catherine," Steve started, but he didn't really know what to say. Maybe he should tell her he was sorry for scaring her. Maybe he should tell her that she shouldn't worry about him. Or maybe he should admit that he was kind of glad she did.

"Shhh, it's okay," Catherine whispered, bringing her forehead to his, her hand still gently stroking through his hair. "You're gonna be okay," she added after a moment, and Steve felt like it was more to reassure herself than him.

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

"Hey, can I help you?"

Edith stared for a moment at the pretty brunette in short-shorts and a tank top opening the door who was smiling fondly at her. Not that she had expected McGarrett to open the door himself. The guy had been shot and almost bled to death not four days ago, so she was surprised that he was already home at all. But she hadn't particularly expected a . . . what, girlfriend to greet her at his door. He just didn't strike Edith as the kind of guy who cared much about anything but guns and explosives. And little Gracie. But then, she had been wrong about him before.

"I'm Special Agent Edith Lake," she said, pointing a finger awkwardly at herself. "Is Commander McGarrett around? I'm sorry for dropping by unannounced. I just have a few questions about the case, I won't be long."

"Yeah, sure, come on in," the pretty brunette said with another polite but honest smile. She opened the door a little wider and stepped aside, waving Edith inside. "He's out on the lanai," she said, closing the door behind Edith. "Just go on right through."

"Thanks," Edith said, offering a smile in return. She walked through the living room and – wow – someone had done some serious cleaning since the last time she had been here. Everything looked perfectly in order, no more signs of the chaos those three kids had wreaked here not a week ago.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" pretty brunette offered from behind her.

"Oh, no, thank you. I'll really just be a minute."

"Alright, I'll be in the kitchen," she said, jerking a thumb in the direction. "Let me know if you change your mind."

Edith awkwardly smiled again and nodded. What a sweet girl. God bless her for putting up with a guy like McGarrett.

She turned back around to the French doors leading out to the lanai and spotted McGarrett sitting in a deck chair facing the ocean, his left leg propped up on small stool. She softly knocked on the door before pushing it open, feeling like a creepy stalker invading his privacy.

"Where have you been so long, I've missed you."

Edith froze halfway through the door. God, this was not awkward at all.

"Uhm . . ." she stammered, feeling like this was a great opportunity to ease the tension with a cute little joke, but her mind was completely blank. So Edith just puffed her cheeks and waited for him to look around and notice that she was not the pretty brunette.

It took a moment, but eventually, McGarrett pushed himself up a little in his chair and moved to turn around. He winced in pain and grabbed his left side with his uninjured hand and – damnit, Edith, try using your brain next time.

She quickly moved a few more steps out so that McGarrett could see her while sitting back in his chair. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to- I just-"

"Do you ever knock?" McGarrett grunted as he lowered himself against the backrest of the chair.

"Huh?" Edith frowned, but then she remembered that the last time she had been in his house, she and Bix had burst in, guns drawn. "Oh . . . I didn't. I- Your . . . friend let me. The- the one I guess you've been missing." Yeah, really smooth, Edith.

McGarrett just gave her a lopsided smile and closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths, his right hand still pressing against his side. "Is there any particular reason why you're here or did _you_ just miss _me_?" he asked after a moment.

"That's . . . hilarious." Edith gave him a look and sat down on the edge of the chair next to his. "There are two reasons, actually. Officially, I'm here to see how you're doing. And to apologize for almost getting everyone killed . . . I guess."

"It wasn't really your fault."

"It . . . kind of was, actually."

McGarrett looked at her and sighed. "Well, apology accepted."

"Thank you," Edith said, not sure she was going to be able to forgive herself for the error in judgment she had made regarding Kipton. If she had flagged his ID then Detective Williams and his daughter would never have gotten kidnapped in the first place.

"And unofficially?"

"Unofficially, I'm here to give you the heads up for when you give your statement to the agents that have taken over the case."

"What do you mean?" McGarrett frowned.

Edith sighed. "I'm sure you've heard that the D.A. has decided to drop all the charges against Detective Williams because he was only trying to help his brother, who was blackmailed by Fuentes."

McGarrett nodded. "So?"

"Well, there's a guy in I.A. who's coming after your partner's badge for this whole mess. That's why he's still suspended."

"What?" McGarrett stared at her with a mix of anger and confusion.

"Yeah. And he's being backed by the Assistant Director of the Bureau, who's putting pressure on the Governor to not interfere and let the investigation run its course."

"That's . . . great," McGarrett groaned, this time clearly not from pain, but in frustration. Sighing, he let his head drop against the backrest of the chair and stared up into the blue sky above them.

"Look, I know this sounds bad but this guy doesn't have anything solid. With all the evidence gone and Kipton still missing, all he really has are our statements."

McGarrett frowned again, his gaze dropping back down to Edith. "What do you mean?"

"Look, the only thing that indicates that your partner has ever even been in contact with his brother is the fact that he gave us the name of the motel. But the cameras and microphones in the interrogation room were switched off when he told us, so all this I.A. guy has is what we tell him." Edith gave McGarrett a meaningful look, hoping he would catch her drift.

"You're saying we should lie."

"I'm saying we should . . . agree . . . on how we figured out where to go looking for Matt Williams."

McGarrett pursed his lips and looked at her suspiciously. "And you're okay with this? You would lie for Danny?" he asked, clearly skeptical.

Edith smiled. "I owe you guys one."

"You could get into a lot of trouble."

"Are you trying to talk me out of this?"

"No."

"Good."

"So, what are we 'agreeing' on?" McGarrett asked, making one-handed air quotes.

"Not sure, but we'll figure something out." Edith smiled at him again and got back up from her chair, smoothing out her pants awkwardly. "Well, I guess I'm gonna get going then. I'm glad you're doing better, Commander."

"Hey, uhm, I'm having everyone over for beers and steaks later," McGarrett said, waving a hand in the direction of the grill. "How about you give your partner a call and guys join us."

"You really think it's a good idea to invite Bixler _and_ Officer Kalakaua to the same barbecue?"

"Kono can handle him," McGarrett said and smiled confidently – maybe even a little proudly.

Sighing, Edith nodded. "Okay, but I'm not taking any responsibility for him."

"Deal."

**-the end-**

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** (part 2) I hope you didn't mind the surprise Steve/Catherine there at the end... and I hope you are not too disappointed that I left the Kipton and Matt storyline open... but this story was really more about the team and how much they care about each other. Also, with Matt it's just that I don't want to "seal his fate" as long as he could still pop up on the show again. I really hope they will bring him back at some point and wrap up that storyline. And Kipton... well, maybe I will one day write a sequel (also because I have grown quite attached to Edie and Bix) and bring him back and figure out what he's been up to... if he's even alive at all. I don't know. We'll see.

And last but not least I want to thank everyone again for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate the support. THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! You all made this a wonderful experience for me :D


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